


Fill the Cracks with Kintsugi ~Abandoned~

by Kerica (orphan_account), Lynx_Tiger



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Background Relationships, Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes-centric, F/M, M/M, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Steve Rogers, Triggers, You Have Been Warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-19 05:50:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 85,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8192593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Kerica, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynx_Tiger/pseuds/Lynx_Tiger
Summary: “Then finish it...” Steve grunted through a mouth full of blood.He stared at him. Why. Why couldn’t he punch him again, crack his skull open, end it…“…‘Cause I’m with ya...til the end of the line...”RESET.OVERRIDE MISSION TO KILL.CODE ‘END OF THE LINE’ ACCEPTED.





	1. Lots of Queries

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [This, You Protect](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1752638) by [owlet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlet/pseuds/owlet). 
  * Inspired by [The Long Road Begins at Home](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5339822) by [owlet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlet/pseuds/owlet). 



> All of the triggers is2g you name it it'll happen sooner or later.
> 
> BUT THERE WILL ALSO BE SHENANIGANS

The first breach in protocol happened the night he shot Fury. He had been watching through the window into Roger’s apartment, making mathematical calculations to wind and distance and location of bodies. He could hear their conversation crystal clear. He had no interest in the ‘wife’ story. Unimportant. Untrue. He was supposed to kill Fury and also kill Captain America.  
  
Yet every time he heard the Captain’s voice, something deep in his chest ached and his gut twisted. He became confused.

The voice. _Familiar_. **Confirm**.

_**Query:** Why was it familiar?_

The conversation continued on and he focused. If he took a shot right now, he would hit the Captain’s head.  
  
_So why did his trigger finger hesitate?_  
  
He had situated his sniper rifle and kept trying. It was like he was frozen, listening to the way the Captain’s voice reverberated with that soft rumble-growl of unhappiness. He was broken from the spell when he heard the squeak of the chair as Fury stood. He took a shot through the wall once, the next two times in rapid succession through the cloud of plaster and dust that puffed up.  
  
He paused again. _Why was he stopping?_ He put his sniper rifle back in it’s duffel bag and tucked it away to retrieve later. He still listened to Fury tell the Captain not to trust anyone. _Sound advice_. **Confirm**. He returned to the edge of the rooftop he was on. Query: Why? Why was he checking on the Captain? He was his mission. He should have tried to shoot him.  
  
There was no ‘ **Confirm** ’ that followed and he cursed as he heard the radio static asking if they knew his location. Bolting, he had a head-start when he heard the sound of glass shattering twice as the Captain jumped buildings. He didn’t have to look down to know he was being followed on the floor below his feet.  
  
_What even._  
  
This guy had no respect for property, it seemed. One-track mind. Catch him. Did he have much of a plan besides that? _Probably not._  
  
Reaching the end of the roof he was on, thumping and ringing vibrating the soles of his shoes, he easily vaulted to the next roof and was almost, so / _close_ / to the end of it when he heard the Captain break through glass a third time, grunt and then there was a / _shwing_ / through the air. **Calculate**.  
  
_Now._  
  
Whipping around he caught the shield-mid air with his left hand, metal thrumming against metal. He bore deeply at Rogers, his arm whirled, and he reeled his arm back, tossing it back towards him.  
  
In Roger’s distraction he ran, jumping off of the rooftop and didn’t run forward, instead darting back through an alleyway. Rogers’ shadow was cast on the sidewalk and all he could really think was for being such a genius he was an idiot. **Confirm**.  
  
Making his way back to the duffle-bag, Rogers unawares the whole time, he retrieved it and returned to base. They were unhappy that he did not kill Rogers, but they / _were_ / happy he killed Fury. So. No punishment, just back to confinement. **Acceptable**.  
  
He didn’t let them know the mission target had went from Captain America to Rogers and his voice was familiar. He recognized his face, but it was blurry. _**Confirm** , they did not need to know_. He did not want punishment.  


* * *

The mission updated to two targets, but one he didn’t already know about. This guy was the one behind the schedule. Oh well. He discovered he had a lighter touch to his step than he usually did, a slight bounce, even. What was this? Zola. Dead. Well, he had been / _dead_ / for some time, but even his remnants were gone. That made him. Giddy. Zola had put a bad taste in his mouth. He always hated hearing it’s AI voice in his head. Now he didn’t have to encounter that ever again.  
  
Who did he have to thank? Rogers, the man whom he was going to have to kill. It would be a good kill, a swift one, for his appreciation.  


* * *

The fight on the bridge. Not much of one, considering he hit a whole lot of nothing except for scrap metal cars. It was a good fight, though. He didn’t speak much, but his voice had rumbled orders in Romanian while he continued to exhaust his weapon supply. Grenade launcher. Always enjoyable. **Confirm**.  
  
_**Query:** Rogers, why are you making things difficult?_ He wanted to make this quick and easy and neither him nor the redheaded woman wanted that. In fact, they wanted the opposite. Complicated, long and difficult.  
  
Then the redhead… _Natalia_  his brain hissed at him...shot his goggles.  
  
Natalia shot his goggles.  
  
He was furious. The fight got _really_  interesting after that. Rogers could fucking _wait_.  
  
Oooh, she was tricky. He loved that about her. The way they could be witty with each other on the battlefield helped him remember her in quick succession. It was easier to remember those he dealt with on a regular basis when he was off the ice.  
  
Natalia did that thing with her thighs where she used him like a set of child’s play-bars and spun around and tried to choke him with wire. Then she used an EMP shock on his arm. The little shit. He hated having to kill her as his actual target this time. Before in any other situation she’d only been in the way so he tried to avoid her. He got a shot off on her, hit her shoulder and she ducked but didn’t end it.  
  
_**Repeat Query** : Why did they have to be so difficult?_  
  
As he snuck up on her, and _tried_  to finish it, Rogers came barreling from nowhere and they immediately engaged. Lots of gunfire. What the hell was with that spinning tornato-kick thing? Oh hey, hand to hand combat for once, shield or no shield.  
  
He got to use his knives!  
  
Seriously though. That spin-kick thing. Was that his second signature move besides tossing that Frisbee around?  
  
Ugh. That kick to the chest hurt, pal.  
  
_**Query** : Pal? When did Rogers turn into pal?_  
  
Damn. He had pulled Rogers so close...close enough blue bore into blue and he just...he tossed him away from him. Why didn’t he end it right there? His jugular was right under his metal fingers…all he had to do was squeeze a little harder...  
  
More hand to hand combat and more knife-use but he was no longer happy about the change of pace. He was confused. He didn’t like being confused.  
  
**WARNING.**  
  
**DAMAGE TO METAL ARM.**  
  
**PAIN.**  
  
**CONFIRM.**  
  
The fight continued while his mind blanked out in order for his body and training to kick in.  
  
His mask got ripped off.  
  
**Identity compromised.**  
  
He turned to stare at Rogers anyway, jaw set, eyes dark and glaring. They just...stared at each other for a solid minute.  
  
“Bucky?”  
  
He could hear his brain short-circuit. Or was that the wiring in his metal arm?  
  
_**Query**_.  
  
“Who the hell is Bucky?”  
  
He didn’t mean to say it out loud. He could feel his eyes wide from shock. He produced another gun from his tactical gear and then…  
  
Flying black man kicked him right in the side of the face. Asshole.  
  
Jumping to his feet again, no time for anything else, he could feel his breathing increase, his eyes darting everywhere but Rogers, then he pulled his gun back up and took aim. Had to kill him. Had to be now.  
  
**DENY.**  
  
Just as his brain reared at that, there was the distinct / _thromp_ / of the grenade launcher. Coming from behind Rogers was the ball and he ducked.  


* * *

_The memories._ Zola. Falling from the train, Rogers, though his face was still hazy his voice was clear. Shouting the name. Bucky. Who was this Bucky-Person? It couldn’t be him. He was the Winter Soldier. A machine built and made by his handlers to take care of their dirty work.  
  
_So why._ Why were there the images of the cliff-face and trees and shrubs flying by his memory, catching on a rock which practically tore apart his arm since he had fallen so hard and fast. Blood in the snow. Zola’s voice. Sounds of medical equipment, pain in his arm because Hydra didn’t believe in numbing him for any surgery. Waking up to a new metal arm. Choking the doctor to death.  
  
_“Put him on ice.”_  
  
His own face staring back at him as he put his hand to the metal door.  
  
He hated the chair. There would be punishment for lashing out, for disobedience. They didn’t like what he had to say. _The slap._ He felt like just any ol’ bitch getting slapped around by their man. That’s what he was. Hydra had made him their slave and he / _hated_ / it. He / _remembered_ / if only just a / _little_ /.  
  
**No**.

Not the mouth-guard. Not the flashing blue lights and the electricity.  
  
**Stay compliant**.

Let them wipe him...he didn’t want to forget, but he had to. He had to force Rogers from his mind as he screamed…

* * *

Rocket launcher. Just as fun as grenade launcher, maybe more so.  
  
He had not been given a mask or goggles. Had they been ruined previously? He felt odd without them. _Exposed_. **Confirm**.  
  
Somehow, some way, with lots of gunfire and things exploding, he made his way to the helicarrier and promptly bull-rushed Captain America off of it.  
  
Wilson, Sam. He had been briefed on this target and he had been added to the list. He would just call him Flying Sam, a lot easier. Flying Sam tried to go dive after the Captain but he thwarted him. They had a good short fight, he even did a spin thing to avoid bullets and darted behind cover. _**Query**_ : _When did he learn how to do a spin-thing?_  
  
It didn’t take too much longer before he ripped off a wing of Flying Sam and sent him tumbling with a well-placed kick to the chest.  
  
Now to protect the helicarrier from being taken control of.  


* * *

Why did Captain America keep having to talk? With that stupid soft rumble of a voice that was so / _soothing_ /.  
  
He sounded so sad. _**Why did this Bucky-Person make Rogers sad?**_ When did he go from Captain to Rogers? He remembered having that particular thought before. He just kept staring him down while his mind whirled.  
  
Then Rogers made the first move, time too dire for him to keep standing around having an inner war with himself. He still had his own mission. Protect the helicarrier and kill Rogers.  
  
That shield was annoying. He shot around it, but only grazed Rogers. He was knocked back a lot, but he kept surging back at him. This particular game of cat and mouse wasn’t so fun. He remembered wanting to end it for him quickly out of mercy and being happy he got rid of Zola. Now he was fighting sluggishly. Still fast, for the two of them being super-soldiers, but he could see it in himself. He didn’t / _really_ / want to hurt him.  
  
**Mission failing.** Mission to protect the helicarrier was / _failing_ / because he couldn’t actually get a solid hit on Rogers.  
  
**MISSION IN DANGER OF FAILURE.**  
  
**FAILURE EQUALS PUNISHMENT.**  
  
**The chair.** He didn’t want to go back to the chair.  
  
With a bellow he tackled Rogers right over the railing, the chip sliding away.  
  
Finally with the shield having been lost in the fall, he could actually punch Rogers.  
  
_Damn it, no! Stupid chip!_  
  
He was successful in knocking the chip away, but he was unable to gain purchase when Rogers flew him away from him.  
  
Using the shield against Rogers was kind of gratifying. Too busy shooting at him again, however, to revel in him successfully going down.  
  
He was glad for his metal arm whirring to stab Rogers finally in the fucking shoulder, but pain made Rogers more angry, and the resulting headbashing made him dizzy so he tossed him away so he wouldn’t have to deal with that bullcrap.  
  
Quite a lot of swearing in one mental thought, there.  
  
The chip! He snatched it up but then...

Choking was not on his list of things he enjoyed. Rogers was / _furious_ /. He gasped when he was slammed down on the glass and was pinned, Rogers locked his body and tried to get the chip back from him. He tried to punch back, tried to reach him, and ignored the orders he gave to drop the chip.  
  
**PAIN.**  
  
**PAIN.**  
  
**FLESH SHOULDER DISLOCATED.**  
  
**PAIN.**  
  
Yet he still held onto the chip.  
  
Again. Choking was not enjoyable. He couldn’t let the mission fail. He tried pulling Roger’s hand away from him but no use.  
  
The black ink of darkness crept at the corner of his eyes. No, this...choke hold wasn’t...meant to...kill. Rogers...would never...kill him…  
  
As soon as he woke up he was pissed, and terrified.  
  
**MISSION FAILURE.**  
  
**PUNISHMENT WILL BE RECEIVED.**  
  
**CHAIR.**  
  
**ELECTRIFIED.**  
  
Whipping his gun out he shot at Rogers. Missed his hand. This guy was a fucking monkey. His shoulder hurt, he was delirious and wobbled.  
  
Successful hit to the gut.  
  
_Why was he not glad about that?_  
  
He had a lot of queries recently, he remembered. The queries kept sprouting like daises. It was making his head hurt.  
  
_Why did Rogers have to be so goddamn difficult?_  
  
_Why couldn’t this be an easy mission?_  
  
_Why did he make his brain turn to jelly?_  
  
_Why couldn’t he just / **stay down** /?_  
  
Even a shot to the goddamn gut didn’t keep him down!  
  
_What the actual fuck, Rogers? Telling them to /fire/ with the two of them still on the helicarrier?_  
  
_**WHAT THE HELL?!**_  
  
**CONFIRM QUERY.**  
  
**SHIT.**

He screamed as he was unable to dodge the falling piece of debris and was pinned by it. On his already injured arm. _Wasn’t that just how it worked?_ He couldn’t even shove it off because of it.  
  
**TERROR.**  
  
**CONFIRM.**  
  
He was...he was definitely terrified right now. He kept struggling, trying to / _wiggle_ / his way free but that had no effect.  
  
Then there’s Rogers, coming down and trying his best to move it even though he, too, had an injured shoulder, an injured thigh, and a gut wound. On top of the fact they were crashing into the S.H.I.E.L.D. building.  
  
Rogers was superior to him. The original. He no doubt would have never won in a fight with him, anyway.  
  
So why...why did his mission have to be to kill him? Did they hope he would die as well and they wouldn’t have to deal with reprogramming him every time?  
  
He was free.  
  
“You know me.” Rogers growled, heaving.  
  
**He couldn’t**.

He got to his feet and swung his metal arm, hitting Rogers right in that stupid face, all the while screaming, “NO I / _DON’T_ /!”  
  
**It was a lie**.

He remembered, if only pieces. He remembered the train, the voice screaming the Bucky-Person’s name.  
  
He only denied it because he would be punished. He would go back to the chair. They didn’t like it that he had told them he knew him the other day. Had tried to reprogram him again, but throwing him back in the fray so soon after messed him up. He remembered the fight with Natalia, the minx. He remembered when he called Rogers ‘pal’ mentally.  
  
They heaved at each other, and he didn’t know what sort of face he was making, just knew it was contorted in what must me emotional pain. He could feel his eyes sting with salt water.  
  
“Bucky...”  
  
**Stop calling me Bucky!**  
  
“You’ve known me your whole life...”  
  
**I am not this Bucky-Person! I am the Asset! I am Soldat!**  
  
He punched him again.  
  
“Your name...is James Buchanan Barnes.” Rogers said this more firmly.  
  
**Stop talking! No it isn’t!**  
  
“SHUT UP!” he physically yelled, his headspace too loud with flashes of images he didn’t want. He swung his body, fist connecting with the gunshot wound on Roger’s stomach, sending him sprawling, helmet falling off.  
  
He heaved, and discovered a name for the face he made when Rogers returned to his feet. Pleading.  
  
_Please stay down. Please don’t get back up. Please stop talking._  
  
That face Rogers was making.  
  
“I’m not gunna fight you.”  
  
The shield fell between the holes where the glass used to be.  
  
_Why did you discard your shield?_  
  
_Why aren’t you going to fight back?_  
  
He should be relieved, but he didn’t know what to think anymore. Everything was / _too loud_ /.  
  
**KILL. MISSION INCOMPLETE.**  
  
**Affirmative**. Perhaps if he killed the Captain then he wouldn’t be put in the chair even if he didn’t protect the helicarriers.  
  
“You’re my friend.” Rogers said with so many emotions in his eyes and on his face that he couldn’t make them all out.  
  
That was the trigger, though. He barreled forward and tackled him to the steel, “You’re my mission.” He growled at him before he started repeatedly bashing Steve’s face in.  
  
“ _YOU’RE_ -” **Punch**.  
  
“ _MY_ -” **Punch**.  
  
“ _MISSION!_ ” **Punch**.  
  
He reached his arm up, paused, then went a little higher.

_**Steve.** _

Why did he think of his first name? When did he morph Rogers into Steve now?  
  
“Then finish it...” Steve grunted through a mouth full of blood.  
  
He stared at him. Why. Why couldn’t he punch him again, crack his skull open, end it…  
  
“…‘Cause I’m with ya...til the end of the line...”  
  
**RESET.**  
  
**OVERRIDE MISSION TO KILL.**  
  
_**CODE ‘END OF THE LINE’ ACCEPTED.**_  
  
He was flooded then with more mental images, in no particular order. Pieces of the war. Pieces of the Howlies. A wall of fire between the two of them and him screaming ‘ _not without you_!’ across it. Of them as kids. Seeing Steve’s face above him on Zola’s operating table and whispering ‘Steve’ with such relief and happiness…  
  
_He remembered._  
  
_He was about to kill his best friend._  
  
The horror crossed his face then just as he heard the steel above them snap with it’s own weight and he suddenly didn’t have Steve beneath him anymore, watching the unconscious man fall into the river below.  
  
**No.**  
  
**No. No. No.**  
  
**UNACCEPTABLE.**  
  
Mission reset would not allow this to happen. He let go of the metal bar and pistoned his body towards the water, breaking through with ease and he used his powerful legs to swim down...down…  
  
_Where are you, Steve?_  
  
Down...his lungs hurt...the water was polluted and it was hard to see…  
  
_**STEVE**_.  
  
He reached for him, grasping him by his uniform and he swam up. Barely. He was barely able to get out of the water before his own lungs exploded. He could stay under for two minutes but this was ridiculous. Adrenaline makes you do strange, impossible things.  
  
He found the shoreline, hauling Steve there and plopped him down unceremoniously. There were sirens in the distance already, a search and rescue party. He had to leave. Holding his injured arm close to his body, he didn’t look back. _**He saved him**_. Steve would live, and so would he.  
  
He wouldn’t go back to the snakes. He had more important things to do.

_**They didn’t control him anymore.** _


	2. Important Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Three_  days later.  
  
Dry clothes, re-located shoulder, and a hot shower later he was at the hospital he’d discovered Steve to be laid up. Flying Sam was there but so was a lot of security. Another plan of action was needed.  
  
He _needed_  to know how Steve was doing. He wouldn’t be able to do that from inside. As banged up as he was, even he couldn’t get out of the hospital right away, in spite of the fact he healed quickly. He used that to his advantage. Eventually he found the perfect spot from across the way and used his sniper scope to see into Steve’s designated room. He had bugged Flying Sam’s clothing while pretending to bump into him as a pedestrian and he put his earpiece in.  
  
“Steve, for the love of all that’s holy, stay in the hospital until the doctors tell you it’s okay to leave!” Sam’s voice rang.  
  
Steve was perpetually stubborn.  
  
“He’s out there, Sam! I have to find him!”  
  
“No you goddamn don’t! Not right this very second! You _just_  woke up this morning from more or less a coma and it’s not even three pm!”  
  
A coma. That made his stomach twist. Fuck, their fight had been brutal.  
  
He knew he had to do something. _Anything_  to get Steve to say in bed, short of making contact. Then a nurse named ‘Sarah’ came in and he watched Steve get choked up but he was very polite.  
  
Sarah.  
  
Sarah Rogers.  
  
His mother.  
  
A few more images fell into place, a little more drawn-out and vivid since Hydra had made sure to block Steve and the army days from his mind, not so much Sarah.  
  
He knew what he had to do.

* * *

Sam held the white envelope in his hands with a deep frown. It hadn’t been sealed shut, and there was no powder so it wasn’t a form of a threat. Still. He didn’t know who the fuck ‘James’ was, and Sarah had told him a stranger gave it to her and just said to give it to Steve. She had done her best to say he wasn’t there, but he walked away. Why would a stranger do that?  
  
He was sorely tempted to throw it away. Steve didn’t need _fans_  worrying about his health. Yet, maybe at the same time this was the sort of pick-me-up he needed. To know somebody out there besides his close friends cared. Well, that settled it.  
  
Walking into Steve’s room, he jutted his arm out, “This is for you. Nurse Sarah gave it to me to give to you from a fan.” Easier explanation than a ‘stranger’. Steve stared at the envelope in disbelief before he snatched it away from him, yelling joyously. This guy...the pain meds may not _entirely_  work but they had _some_  effect and that effect was making Steve very emotional and maybe a little bit high. Then he said something Sam didn’t expect.  
  
“This is _his_  handwriting. James! It’s Bucky!” Steve’s face lit up like a fucking Christmas tree, Sam thought, and he all but ripped the card out of the envelope.  
  
_“Steven Grant Rogers._  
  
_Stay in the hospital._  
  
_Look. Know how much you hate it._  
  
_You. Sick all the time. Poked and prodded. Pretended it didn’t bother you. Liar. Very bad liar. Smell bothers you. Too clean. Too white. You like clean, but not /that/ clean. Not when everything smells like sanitizer. Also smells like death. Reminds you of when you thought you were dying from whatever stupid illness popped up that month. Would refuse to stay then, too, wanting to be home surrounded by love then on a deathbed that is worse to sleep on than the forest floor with all the sticks and rocks stabbing your back._  
  
_Sarah. Mother. Sick then died, too. Overall hate hospitals._  
  
_Understood. Still._  
  
_Not dying. Not today. Not anytime soon. Don’t have to be home to die because death is not imminent. Nurse Sarah looks nice. Helped me remember though involuntarily. Saw name badge. Let her make you comfortable. Hate hospital less for now._  
  
_Have things to do. Something...something I’m forgetting, but I do not remember yet. Have to take care of it, whatever it is._  
  
_Stay there. Go when doctors say.”_

Steve felt his eyes water as he read and re-read and re-read the note. He felt his hands shake and his tears slip down his cheeks. Bucky remembered something. He was still forgetting things, which was fine. Whatever he needed to take care of that was fine too. He knew that Bucky would do something to make him stay in the hospital, but he knew.  
  
He knew that he'd find Bucky again. Because he was going to remember whatever it was he needed to remember. He was going to take care of it, and then he was probably going to do his own thing. It was a game of hide and seek now. Much less a game of chase.  
  
He placed the letter by his bedside table and looked at Sam who was watching him. Steve knew that look. Sam was readying himself to either continue to fight Steve into the bed and force him to stay there. "I'm giving him a head start Sam." Steve said after a moment. "A nice long head-start. It should give him time to do whatever he needs to do. He'll make it fucking difficult, but...that's alright. I'm better at seeking than I was ever at hiding. So it's probably a good thing it's Bucky's turn."

Sam was watching him intently, but he was glad that Steve was going to stay put, no matter who was the one to convince him. “Alright. You heal up and you’ll be out of here by Fury’s fake funeral in no time. Natasha has a brief trial to go to, too, but she’s going to own it like she always does. I don’t know the guy like you do, so I’ll keep out of it until you’re better and we can have a /proper/ discussion without either of us raising our voices. Deal?”

"Deal. Thanks Sam." Steve leaned back into the pillows and closed his eyes. Bucky was out there and Steve could only send a small prayer to a God he thought abandoned him that Bucky would remain safe.  
  
That he'd find him soon.

* * *

_“Tată...Tată I’m scared...Tată help me...TATĂ!”_  
  
James sat up with a gasp and sweat rolling down his face, soaking his shirt. He had found a dumpy little apartment complex that had been abandoned and was set for demolition. He didn’t plan on being in it very long, anyway, but it had been another week. Steve was out of the hospital, more memories had flooded back to him but only in snippets, never fully complete. Some ‘memories’ he questioned, having woken up to them as dreams that had his heart pumping. Fury’s funeral was today. Not that he believed he had really killed him. Of course not. He hadn’t successfully completed any of his missions, really. Which was a huge downer considering he was supposed to be the Best Assassin in the World next to Natalia. The Ghost Story. The Winter Soldier.  
  
That wasn’t his life anymore, though. He had been able to complete basic human functions, like groceries and hygiene, since missions in the far past could last weeks doing surveillance on a target and he would have to take care of himself. He used the list of accounts he had memories to withdraw enough money to buy a nice little safe-house in every state in the country, and three different practical cars like a truck, a van, and a normal vehicle, and five motorcycles. A few days later, he started a brand new account with a bank that was also located in New York and dumped a good chunk of it in there, a portion in a savings account, and the rest he kept on his person. Didn’t want to be tracked by amount. He wouldn’t be without ever in his life, though he knew he would spend frugally like he was in the Great Depression.  
  
While he could buy any bloody car he wanted, he hated traffic. Traffic lights could also spot him and wounds were still fresh and things were still too risky. At the same time, they didn’t pay much attention to pedestrians crossing the street especially if there was a crowd because they got lazy, looking at every single face every time. James hated crowds, but they were his saving grace. As was his hoodie. Dark, deep red with the ‘under armor’ symbol at his neck where the hood split off. He had also acquired a hat in case it was too warm for a hoodie.  
  
James got up and went to get ready to go to the gym for a shower, discarding the shirt in a corner to wash later at the laundromat. He’d bought a pass because while he would probably break the equipment he could use the weights and pull-up bars and weighted push bars. They also had showers. He couldn’t use anything in the apartment complex he was in or risk being detected, but this was good.  
  
Tată. Being called that. Who? Romanian for father. Was he a father? He would hate Hydra even more if that was so.  
  
No face went with the voice, but there had been a lot of white in the dream, flash of freckles and the mouth shape shouting. That was it.  
  
The trek to the gym was short-lived as he wasn’t even paying attention, too busy thinking hard while he ate a granola bar. Tată. That voice. For the last week and a half he’d felt like he was /missing/ something, but those two things helped him feel like he was closer to solving the puzzle.  
  
The trip was short-lived because he was bumped into. In his legs. By a tiny human.  
  
With blond hair in pigtails and bright blue eyes that were crying.  
  
His heart melted. She was clinging to his leg and sniffling and he knelt down, “What’s wrong, little angel?” he asked, voice rough and gravelly, but bless children. They were never afraid of him. That phrase. Déjà vu had been translated into he had a memory he didn’t quite recall.  
  
“I lost my momma! I can’t find ‘er,” she sniffled again.  
  
“Where did you last see her?” He asked, brushing his flesh fingers over soft cheeks, wiping away her tears, “Can you show me?” At her nod, he allowed her to lead him by her little hand squeezing his finger tightly and didn’t care he was bending nearly in half. A subway. He picked her up and carried her on his hip while going down the stairs. She pointed at the train. Ah, she’d gotten lost while being jostled by the people. Her mother must’ve gotten on the train without her. “We’ll have to wait for the next train. Are you okay with that?” he asked soothingly.  
  
“Okay. If you’re with me.”  
  
So they sat at a bench and waited.  
  
While they did, he thought. Little Angel. Blond girl with blue eyes that was maybe seven?  
  
“Why did you pick me? You could have asked anybody here.”  James had to ask.  
  
“No one looked safe. You looked safe, like a dad. Do you have a kid?” She blinked up at him with those big innocent eyes.  
  
He paused. He’d been wondering that himself. “I...do...” he said slowly, the words not feeling wrong. “A daughter. I don’t know where she is. I lost her, too. I’m trying to find her.” His words came out faster as he spoke what was on his mind. He felt sick. Hydra had his daughter.  
  
Anzhelina.  
  
“I hope you find her. Oh, here comes the train!” the girl chirped, shooting to her feet with a little hop.  
  
James made sure the little girl was reunited with her mother, blushing so hard he felt his ears and neck heat up, and quickly left.  
  
He had shit to do. Leaving another note with Nurse Sarah to give to Steve, that simply read _‘Figured out what I forgot. Keep watch. Keep safe. If you don’t stay safe the length of time it takes for me to contact you will be extended.’_  
  
There. Steve could take a punch, would relish in the punch, actually, but not being able to contact his Bucky-Person would drive him up the wall and that satisfied _him_.  
  
Now, to go to England.


	3. What Defines Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There were arguments on what they should do since the Winter Soldier defected and the S.H.I.E.L.D base that they were relying on heavily was finally destroyed by Captain America. There were debates on whether or not the Companion should be let out to bring the Soldier back. Some said that it was a great idea. She could probably find him faster than they could and she would know how to bring him back. Others denied it, saying that it was dangerous to rely on an animal. Since the father went rouge, she was probably next to go.  
  
So then what were they going to do with someone like her? They kept her locked away in a prison cell, somewhere deep without light and with the walls closing in. An iron door with only a food slot was her company as well as the voices that rang through her mind.  
  
She didn’t speak to them. Didn’t bat an eye when they hit her, just laughed like she was trained to. She scratched the walls, scratched her skin and just grinned wildly when they tried to walk into the door to see if they could get her to obey. More bodies to clean up. More punishments to deal. They were seriously thinking of putting her in a real cage with electric wire.  
  
It would've been a smart move really.  
  
They didn’t have the Soldier therefore there was no reason to obey anymore. They knew that she knew that and that’s why they were trying to figure out what to do. She wasn’t useful anymore. They did their experimentation, their playing and now they wanted a new toy. She wasn’t going to give birth. Too sick and weak. She might have super healing powers, but the mind could only take so much damage before there was no way to reverse it.  
  
She was only _half_ of a soldier anyway. Not that she liked the term all that much. She wasn’t cold and heartless and severe. She wasn’t like the snakes. Her Tată was only forced to be like that. She hummed softly to herself as she watched the shadows walk past her door.  
  
_“Can you listen?”  
  
“He’s not coming back.”  
  
“He’s coming back with revenge.”  
  
“Blood’s on the walls, the writing’s clear.”  
  
“Shh.”  
  
“Shhh.”  
  
“Do you listen?’  
  
“Can you hear?”  
  
“Not coming back.”  
  
“Is coming back.”  
  
“Are you dead yet?”_  
  
She growled lowly as she gripped her hands to her head. She didn’t understand it when the voices got like that. Disembodied and trying to get her to answer riddles she didn’t even know the riddle too. Let alone the answer. Then she heard gunshots.  
  
Gunshots.  
  
She lowered her hands down.  
  
_“Flowers are blooming again.”  
  
“Spring’s come again.”  
  
“Shh.”  
  
“Shhh.”  
  
“Dead, dead. All of them dead.”  
  
“Do you know you’re dead too?”  
  
“Isn’t it funny?”  
  
“Strange?”  
  
“Aren’t you unique?”  
  
“A whore.”  
  
“He’s come back. With revenge.”  
  
“Traitor.”  
  
“Is that how it works?”_  
  
She walked over to the door, the shadows making her jump and paranoid. She didn’t understand. She touched the door. It felt cold to her. Was it real or was it fake? She could punch it, but that would lead to more questions rather than answers.  
  
Silence.  
  
Were the gunshots in her head?  
  
The door clicked and she backed away. The door swung open and a man stood there. A man with a scuff and tired eyes. He was staring at her and she was staring at him. He drank her in like it was the first time in many years he was seeing her. Which wasn’t wrong.  
  
“Tată?” Was he real? Had to be real. The light was too bright for it to be fake. The light was florescent and hurt her head. She could feel her nose drip with blood and her nails scratching at her arms. She waited on baited breath.  
  
Was it her father?  
  
Was it the Soldier?  
  
Did it honestly matter who walked in here?  
  
What was real?  
  
What was fake?  
  
_“Murderer.”_  
  
“Monster.”  
  
“Assassin.”  
  
“Ghost.”  
  
“Story.”  
  
“Fantasy?”  
  
"It's time for you to go sweet thing. Take his hand and run."  
  
"Run."

"< **Anzhelina. Little Angel. Going to get you out of here** >," he promised in Romanian. He walked towards her slowly, and handed her a Bowie knife, clasping metal and flesh hands around her tiny little one. She looked like hell and he tried very hard not to look around the room. This cell. She wouldn't be locked up anymore. He kept her by his side as they stormed out of it, "< **Kill everyone you see.** >" He knew he didn't have to worry about himself. She knew his mental pattern, recognized his arm.

Anzhelina looked at the knife, looked back up at Bucky and a smile curled on her face. She laughed and when a shot rang out, she turned around swiftly and threw the knife easily getting it embedded into the shooters head. She left her father's side to grab the knife back and stab the man in the neck just so he wouldn't have a chance to breathe.  
  
_Kill everyone you see._  
  
She laughed like it was a new game. She didn't have to hold back. She knew he wouldn't hold back. She couldn't really remember the details of this new game. She knew it lasted hours. She knew that she went up and down and all over the place in the facility. She could recall the warm feeling of blood. Of innards strewn across. She could remember faces and faces.  
  
She couldn't recall how many of them died violently or with just a snap of the neck. She couldn't remember how many of them she just shoved off the railing and laughed when they went splat on the ground, or how many piled up.  
  
But sometimes she accidentally would get too close to her father's range of motion. Sometimes she killed his targets and felt bad. They were his targets and they weren't supposed to be messed with.  
  
_"Assassin."  
  
"Murderer"  
  
"Monster."_  
  
But the game grew cold when an explosion hit the building. Someone decided that they had enough of the fun. The walls came tumbling down and she let out a horrified scream when she saw that her father couldn't get away from the walls.  
  
She ran over to him, bloody knife in hand. The game was over. They needed to go. She helped him get the rocks off of him, she looked around, waiting on baited breath to see if anyone was going to come after them but she had a feeling that no one was going to directly come after them anymore.  
  
Another bomb was going to go off and she wasn't sure if they'd make out alive. She got him out and they shoved each other out of the building as the next explosion hit.  
  
Someone wasn't very happy that everyone was dying on their watch.  
  
Or maybe it was a fail safe that somehow, some way got triggered. That was more likely. Angelina was pretty certain that they were dead.  
  
As dead as they could be.  
  
_"What is dead?"_  
  
"What is life?"  
  
"Shh."  
  
"Take his hand sweet thing.  
  
It's time to run."  
  
They ran and ran until they couldn't anymore. She wasn't sure of the distance, she knew the blood was caked and brown and rusted on her. She knew she looked like a horror show and her father not much better. She looked up at him, and she placed a careful hand on his metal arm.  
  
He looked at her tired, exhausted, afraid.  
  
She smiled brightly. " < **I knew you wouldn't leave me behind. Where to go now?** >" She paused. "< **Safe house. Somewhere.** >"

James let out a bark of a laugh. It startled her but it grew louder and louder until it echoed in the Forrest surrounding them. He fell to his knees and wrapped her up in his tight grip, "< **We're safe, baby girl. Now we go to a safe house, and I get you your information. Then...we go to New York and you get to meet Uncle Steve.** >"  
  
" _Tată_." Anzhelina understood the message though. Hydra was never getting the Winter Soldier. He had a claimed identity now. One he said with confidence. A last name she could share. She curled her hand around his, squeezing it as she murmured her own name, along with an attached last name for once. "Anzhelina Barnes. Is that okay?"  
  
"That is more than okay. Its beautiful." James looked like he was on cloud nine, "Once at the safe house I will get your birth certificate and we will get your name legally changed. I taught you how to manage money, so once in New York I will get you a bank account and also a savings account. We are going to do things right from now on. Would you like an apartment or a house?"  
  
A house would be a backyard but it would mean being far away from people. She thought about all the places that they ever been in and decided. "I want to go with you." She squeezed his hand. "A house is big, but we're just two people. Houses and apartments both have history. We should get an apartment. Not a small one. A decent size one. Uncle Steve might want to come over sometimes so we gotta make room for him. He's really board shouldered. Small apartment will be a doll house compared to him." She thought about it. "We do things right." She repeated. "What does that...mean?" She felt a little confused by that.

"No more fake IDs, or fake passports or credit cards," James listed, "I have a bank account as it is. Stolen money from the snakes, but that's just it. Hydra is the exception. No more killing. Non-lethal punishments if we come across any crime. Always stay undercover. No displaying our strength unless we can get away with it. That hasn't changed. No targets, no mission, except /one/. Uncle Steve. Mission override - end of the line. Mission: protect."  
  
A protection mission. Angelina blinked. Uncle Steve knew how to override the Soldier's commands to give him identity. She nodded after a moment. "Okay." She looked down at the knife that she was holding. She was dangerous with it. She knew that giving it up meant trouble, but her father wanted a new start. She quietly walked over to a nearby tree and placed it by the trunk. She patted the tree and walked back. "The trees know what to do." Was all she could come up with. "Let's go. I'm tired." 


	4. You Matter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, things are going loopty loop. Thanks to a dear commenter, Reesachan, my co-writer and I have decided what we wrote after chapter 3 needs a complete overhaul. This is why it has taken quite a long time in order to post something new! Thank you everyone for your comments and kudos thus far!
> 
> Also, not only does this story take inspiration from Owlet and "Infinite Coffee and Protection Detail" I also take a great deal of inspiration from "Life of Bucky Barnes" by stephrc79

James had really wanted to go about doing things the right way, but he realized that it wasn’t entirely possible at the current moment in time. Things were still fresh overseas. It would take a few more weeks to a month before people forgot and moved on like they do. This meant bribing. James had his passports from before, but when they destroyed the base Angelina’s went up in flames. They had also grabbed some clothes from a safe house and even though they were dirty from travel and stuffy from storage, it was enough to last a couple days.

They had to take the time to get a copy of her birth certificate, then bribe some more to get her through the process for pictures and information. That had been so stressful and he didn’t have to read minds to know how tiring it was for her to keep it together. They had a long way to go, too.

They were able to get tickets for a plane, and once on the ground in New York, they found a decent but still cheep hotel to trudge to. Walking through traffic and crowds was ultimately much better than being stuck in another confined space. James was impressed with his daughter, treating it like a mission in order to get through it.

However, once in the biggest hotel room they could get their hands on the masks fell away and the exhaustion became apparent. No words were spoken, they just checked perimeters and went through the safety precautions before passing out on the floor, completely ignoring the bed and couch.

When James woke up, he heard the sound of the shower running.

She couldn’t sleep for long, and when she woke up Angelina felt like she was dead and unwell. She felt a minor headache coming in, more annoying than aggravating and she felt sluggish. She just wanted to sleep forever and at the same time was so sick of sleeping at the moment, she didn’t know what to do. She went down to the small store inside the hotel to get a couple of bottles of water, one for her and her dad to clear her head and hopefully get some air through her. But the people made her itch, even the minor conversations she was forced to have so she was happy to be back in the room. But she still felt awful. She believed that a shower might work…maybe it’ll help her feel a little more clean and a little less dead.

The bathroom was a nice one, not too fancy. It was large enough so that at least five people could be inside. Two people could be at the sink, it was large enough so that a woman could be doing their make up and a man could be shaving. Someone could be on the toilet and someone could be taking a shower/bath inside the shower/bath combination. She wasn’t too fond of it, the gimmicks were a bit weird, but she figured out how to turn the shower head on without too much of a problem.  
  
She stepped in after stripping, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror that was right across from the bathroom. Her body was littered in scars. Her back was torn, her ass, her legs, her arms, shoulders. Her front was no better, scars over her small breasts, her stomach area, her abdomen, and down towards the lower part that shouldn’t ever be mentioned. Hell, that’s how one of her handlers put it. She never really saw herself in the mirror before. It was both fascinating and terrifying and she pulled the curtain closed as quickly as she could. She didn’t want to see herself anymore. She didn’t know how to think of herself.

But boy were these showers different than the ones she remembered from the base. The warmth of the shower brought her comfort, but it also made her a little confused. There were tiny bottles, shampoo and conditioner that were on the rack. There was packaged little soap that was right next to it too. The package said for the face…which was weird. Why would someone put soap on the face? What was the point of that? She leaned her head backwards, tilting her head up when she suddenly felt like she was about to drown and she quickly moved away from the spray of water, hitting the wall across from her. 

No one was there. No one was holding her head back and forcing her to breathe in water. She gasped softly as she touched her hair that was wet and dry since she didn’t stay under for very long. She felt…both confused and ashamed.

How was…she supposed to wash herself with no one to guide her? She wasn’t allowed in the shower by herself…they didn’t like her washing herself. So…what was she…supposed to do? Would her _tată_ be upset with her?

"Anzhelina?" The name wasn't used in warning like it usually was. It was full of concern. "Did you fall, _fetiță_?"

"No. I didn't..." Angelina swallowed and she looked at the shower. "I..." How to make words work right now? She wanted to take a shower, get clean, but at the same time she was frightened that she was making a mistake. "I don't have a handler."

There was a choking sound and an inhale. James' hand appeared on the curtain but held there, "Is it okay if I open this?"

 

"Yeah." Angelina nodded, pushing herself away from the wall so she could open the curtain a bit. Her dad was technically her handler, so he could help her. No one would get angry at her for being in the shower if she had her father there. She could log it in...though she wasted ten minutes of shower time...was it ten minutes? She didn't even check the clock...

 

 

 

James' expression was sad for a split second when he looked her over, but he wiped that away and it was soft and understanding, "I have shampoo I got before I came to get you. Wait one second." He took one whole minute, then when he was back he was in just his boxer briefs and socks, a bottle and soap bar in his hands. "Hotel stuff is cheep and gross," he told her with a lopsided smile, "Get your hair completely wet for me. We'll take our time. The shower isn't going to get cold here."

 

 

 

He waited for her to do as she was told, then he had her watch him as he poured a palm full in his hand, "Well, I got a big hand, but you'll only need what you put in your palm when you are comfortable with doing this on your own, _fetiță_." He had her come back towards him so he could put some on the top of her head, then lifted her hair and put the rest under it, piling it together and successfully creating a sudsy mess, scratching her scalp while he was at it, "Does that feel good?"

Angelina was shocked at how gentle he was. Sometimes his fingers caught and they pulled, but she didn't make a sound. But he was gentle, and he scratched her scalp in a way that wasn't like the rough scratches her handler would make on her. She closed her eyes so that the shampoo wouldn't accidentally get into them. She leaned a little further, enjoying the sensation. She had to wonder at the question though. "Why does feeling good matter?"

James took a moment to think about it. He hadn't been out of this for very long himself. Two weeks now? Three? He lost a bit of time there in-route trying to get to the base she was in. It was the tail end of June almost July, in any case. Not very long at all. So her Query resonated with him. "Pleasure...feeling _good_...identified as acceptable to self. _Self_ , not Asset or Mission. I _want_  to feel good. So. When things are identified as making me, self, feel good, things that bring me pleasure, I _want_  to do it _more_. Moderation obvious. Overall point still stands. Query: Why does it matter? Not Asset anymore. It matters to self. Self matters. You matter. What _you_  want matters."

There was another pause after that tangent, then he whispered, "Takes time to identify and come to that conclusion. Not expected to understand right away. Wash, now conditioner and body soap time."

She...mattered and what she wanted mattered. She leaned back into the water, trying to keep breathing as she got the suds out of her hair. He was here, so she didn't fear someone yanking her further back than she was supposed to. She didn't fear that someone might try to put water up her nose, or make her mouth open so she had no choice but to breathe and choke on it. Once the shampoo was rinsed, he helped her with the conditioner in the same way. The soap, he showed her how to use the wash cloth and left her to do that by herself. She marveled at how smooth her skin felt, and much cleaner she felt too. She didn't really understand it, but he understood that it might take time for her to come to grasp it. "Should I still log shower time?"

"I have only one notebook, but you can log whatever you want if you feel it's necessary. Journals...I can grab one for both of us? It might...help me with my memories. I have had many of them and it is hard to keep track by myself." James shook his head, "Once you're done, I'll take one, then go out. We need some food, too. I can handle the crowds if you're okay by yourself for a time."

Angelina frowned, but had to agree. "Okay." It was better he handled the people for a bit. Even if it made him itch just as badly. She got out of her shower and grabbed a towel. For some reason, the hotels always stocked four...for whatever reason. She wrapped it around herself and smiled at him. "Your turn. I'll find your notebook. You take your shower. I might feel good to go with."

* * *

“Now at CNN, the massacre at England still continues to baffle the local authorities. With many bodies, it’s hard to establish how many people were attacking the base. Some say that it was a work for two, while others are going as far to saying that there were about five people.”

Steve remembered the first time he heard about the massacre. The carnage had been so terrible that they couldn’t ask volunteers to help clean it up. It was hard to pin point who belonged to what body part and it was hard to figure out who the killer was. It had been determined once before that it was a work of at least two shooters and three hand to hand combatants. But to see them lower down the number to two people, he wondered who on earth would have that type of strength, and if it was something he needed to worry about as an Avenger.

He wondered if Bucky was okay. If he was apart of it, if he was the one who shot the people. He certainly hoped that it was him that was the shooter. If he was the one that helped tear the Hydra agents apart, well…he couldn’t blame him…but he could certainly see why people would start to wonder about his sanity.

He heard the door open and he glanced over to it. Nick had asked him to meet with him, for some reason or another. He supposed that the English Massacre was going to be on S.H.I.E.L.D’s radar. Just because Hydra had more enemies, didn’t mean they were friends.

“You think it’s two people?” He decided to ask, rather than say hello.

"I'm certain of it now that Stark managed to scrounge up footage tapes from the rubble and piece them together. He went on a solo mission since his suit can tear through it like they're legos instead of boulders," Fury slapped a file down on the table and took a seat to Steve's right in a plush chair, Steve in the couch. He was still in a sling and continued to limp, but he was doing ten times better than before. "Just because the Winter Soldier made everything come crashing down three weeks ago doesn't mean we don't have other bases and intel."

Steve looked at the file that he had been presented with and leaned over to grab it. He flipped it open with a frown. There was a sheet of paper inside that told Steve that the base in England had been a weaponry and holding base. It wasn’t in use for a very long time till Hydra came in. Hydra had been operating it after the collapse of S.H.E.I.L.D. There were photos that helped show the base, but it was during the massacre. Bucky was clearly in the shots, his gun pointed at the people who were in front of him. He wore the Winter Soldier gear, which Steve had to admit he could see the irony it it. But the other…it was blurry. Sometimes an arm, a leg, maybe a strand of hair going by, but there was always a dead body in front of her, shoved in front of the camera. The lifeless eyes, and the blood made Steve swallow.  “Do we have any idea on who the second person might be?”

"Just a female with practically a butcher knife. More precisely a hunting knife, nice and big and serrated." Fury shook his head, "Literally everything was destroyed. Stark couldn't even gather paperwork. All burned or covered in so much blood they fell apart and were akin to blackout lines. The conclusion we came to was she was an ally and or a prisoner and he went _back_  to England in order to save her."

"Went back?" Steve couldn't imagine what would possess Bucky to go back. He remembered the note that was left behind for him at the hospital. A note that told him that he remembered someone and something important and that he was going to go away. Who was she that was so important? A female with a serrated knife, and from what the news reports said, a thirst for blood and gore. Who was she to him? "She's good at evading photos..." He had to pause, because there was a photo of her that wasn't blurry. She didn't show her face, and there was something on the lens that distorted the camera a bit... but she was holding a severed head. The head had a mouth hanging open, eyes wide in fear, blood gushing out the nose and from the sides of it's mouth, tongue rolling out. He could tell right then and there that she probably thought that she was taking a "fun" photo. It made his stomach curl, it made him worry. Who the fuck was Bucky working with? Why her?

"Steve, this is where I gotta state the obvious." Fury caught his attention, "If Barnes sets foot back in the US, and he's spotted, we will capture and detain him. He may have saved you, but he committed terrible crimes. I know you read the whole file Romanoff gave you. He needs to be held accountable."

"What I read and what you read must be different files." Steve said calmly. "I read a file about a soldier who was brainwashed for seventy years, tortured, and had to obey orders from different people not just Hydra in order to stay alive." He shrugged, "But that's if he's spotted right?"

"Brainwashed is like an insanity case, he'll still be tried," Fury stood up, "I know he's an expert in undercover ops. Even with his face being plastered on the news, he'll still be undetected. Someone will say something. It could be tomorrow, considering how he left you notices at the hospital, but it could be two years from now. I'm willing to wait. It'll happen. He can't stay away from you, Rogers."

Steve frowned, "And the girl? She goes scott free?"

"We haven't decided what to do with her just yet. We don't know anything about her, just what she's capable of," Fury shrugged, "When he's found, I'll try not to make a scene as long as he doesn't. That's all I'm promising you."

Steve's mouth twitched as he watched Fury leave. He looked back at the file and nodded his head. He'd have to talk to Tony...and boy he wasn't going to look forward to _that_  too much.


	5. Rawr Rawr, Grrr Grrr

Angelina was rightly skeptical about going to the mall, but James just kept his ball-cap and sunglasses on for the hot June day and kept to the shadows. He missed wearing his hoodie, but that had been during the gloomy beginning of June when it was still cool enough especially in the mornings and evenings. As it is, he kept his jacket on and one glove to hide is arm. It was hell outside, but in the cool air conditioned building he was fine.  
  
They were in a store that had caught her interest with the colors and it carried men's clothing too, so he did a little shopping as well, always staying in her line of sight so they could see each other.  
  
The store was fascinating, the clothes were interesting but she wasn't certain if she was going to be wearing these. She liked the colors most they were really different than the clothes that she was picked or the clothes that were handed to her. However, it was...well...crowded. Not the store itself, but the mall. It was noisy outside the store, and inside they had a radio going, which was nice if it didn't keep interrupting itself with random sales events that were happening. Sale associates, though they were helpful, made her wince because they were just doing their job, they really didn't _want_  to help her. They just wanted her to say no so they could continue on, or they prayed that she said yes and hoped it was complex so that they could spend fifteen minutes in the "stock room" not doing anything. She just wanted to be left alone, and people didn't want to leave her alone even though they wanted to leave her alone anyway....in other words...it was a mess.  
  
The second mess of this was the prices. Holy _fuck_  the prices. She wasn't sure of the budget, her dad didn't give her one, he just told her find clothes that she liked and have fun. Whatever fun looked like. They were expensive as hell. Thirty for a single pair of jeans? Forty for two shirts? Shoes were probably even worse and she wasn't daring to go over on that department and every time she looked over at her father, he was just nodding at her encouragingly for some reason and she was praying that her telepathic abilities would just randomly kick in so he could hear her panic alarm telling him that she wanted out of hell and somewhere different.  
  
"Not finding anything, baby girl?" James didn't want to use her Romanian nickname in a place like this, "Shall we go somewhere else? Old Navy and GAP have bigger areas if the racks are too close together here."  
  
Angelina nodded and they walked out of the store, only for her to be attacked by endless, and endless amount of thoughts. Everyone was high-speed thinking, about the shops, about their kids, about their husbands, wives, co-workers, how that sale associated were treated by the manager, how that sale-associate treated them, how the manager treated them, what to get to eat....Angelina grabbed her dad's sleeve. She could nearly taste blood in the back of her throat, but her nose wasn't bleeding yet.  
  
"Angel...focus on me, baby," James murmured, his hand laying over hers and guiding her through the halls. It wasn't long before they stepped into a fairly quiet shop. A tea shop called Teavana. "How about something to calm you down a bit?"  
  
Angelina perked when she could smell some of the different teas that were brewing and these sale associates weren't the types that wanted to just run away. They /knew/ tea. She let go of her father's sleeve and headed towards one of the cold tea samples. There were mostly hot, but the two cold ones were near the entrance of the door. She tried them both, and had to agree that the fruity ones held up better in the cold, rather than the nutty flavored ones. There was a hot oolong that had chocolate and raspberries in it, which tasted amazing. There was a black tea with gunpowder and licorice that she didn't find appealing, but what she really loved looking at was the tea sets. There were plenty from Japan, but there was some that was just a regular tea pot with matching mugs that were really pretty.  
  
It made her wonder about the new mission. The nonlethal mission. Her dad said that they weren't going back to Hydra, which meant that they couldn't return to the snakes. She knew about the money being stolen, and she knew that they were supposed to do things the _right_  way. She was supposed to protect Uncle Steve...She looked over at her father who was nearby trying one of the teas. He would tell her that Uncle Steve was a good person. Strong. Brave. He wouldn't be upset at the mall. She took a breath, let it out slowly. He would be able to pick clothes out. "Can we come back?" She asked him carefully as she approached his side and tugged his sleeve. "When we move."  
  
"Hmm? Of course we can," James gave her a pleased and proud smile. He wasn't able to give the big smiles yet, still trying to figure out the small ones first, but this was good, "Are you ready to try again with a different store or shall we get out of the mall? There are actual clothing stores that will be less crowded. I was hoping today was a good day, but that's okay."  
  
Angelina pursed her lips together. She knew her limits and she knew all to well that this was a test. It had to be. She had to be able to go out into crowds. She needed to at least try to get to a store. She tugged his arm and they walked out of Teavana. The thoughts bombed again, endless static nose, and the blood taste was coming back, but she barreled on towards a directory. Gap or Navy and they were bigger stores...less crowded. She found it on the map and started heading that way, determined...till she couldn't be determined anymore. The blood started to taste stronger and people were starting to drive her a little crazy. Couldn't they keep their thoughts to themselves? At all?! She felt something wet drip onto her lip and she let out a sharp keen as she cupped her nose quickly with her hand. Now she was a biohazard....that was nice. So much for trying...but she nearly made it. That...had to at least count for something.  
  
James cursed low and put his gloved hand at the back of her head, the other also keeping close to her face, "Tip your head back, I'll guide you to the nearest bathroom," he said soothingly. It took some maneuvering, but people who knew what a nosebleed was got out of the way while others gawked in horror, some in disgust, others getting out their phones. Those ones he moved her faster and made sharp weaves to duck behind over people before they could unlock and snap photos. He felt bad and apologized under is breath, but they made it to the bathrooms and he was so, so glad for the family room where he could go in with her and she was able to drain her face over the sink while he washed his hand and also grabbed hand towels. "Okay. We were able to get to one store at least and I got a new pair of pants from it. We can go back to the hotel when the bleeding stops, Angel. Try again tomorrow."  
  
"Oh dear," a soft voice said to the door and Angelina just wanted to curl up and die. She felt so ashamed and embarrassed. "Here, let me grab you a towel sweetheart." She saw an arm move to the end of the sink and she saw a tiny socked foot on a woman’s hip. She pulled the hand towel away and walked over to Angelina. "Here sweetie, press that against your nose and sit down. I know it's not the cleanest spot you'll sit, but...it's better than standing."  
  
She was a gorgeous woman. With long dark hair pulled back in a low ponytail and shimmering brown eyes. She had a diaper bag on one shoulder and a happy baby with messy hair. He was chewing on a Black Widow pacifier and he was looking at Bucky with high interest. Mostly because he wasn't used to seeing males all that often. "Thanks..." Angelina said softly, taking the towel and pressing it against her nose.  
  
"Who are you? You must've seen us bolt through the crowd..." James wasn't being exactly subtle about it. It would be shit to be caught so early. Damn it.  
  
Johanna blinked and she shook her head, "No. This little one decided that messy diaper was the way to go so I was going to come change him before he made it messier and then get fussy over it." She looked over at Angelina and shook her head, "Though I do admit when I saw the nosebleed, mother instincts came first. I'm so bad at that. I didn't realize she was already being taken care of." She blinked, "Oh damn I'm sorry. I'm Johanna. This is my little lion Leo. What's your names?"  
  
"Angelina." Angelina answered, but her voice was stuffed and nasally, she probably was saying it in a weird foreign tongue.  
  
"Just...James..." it was the first time he'd had to introduce himself. Should he use both last and first? Would she recognize the last? He shrugged, moving closer to Angelina and rubbing her back, keeping his arm out of sight, "We were on our way to shop for new clothes for her when this happened."  
  
"The weather and the pollution undoubtedly," Johanna frowned and she looked at Angelina. "I suppose that you'll have to cancel that unless you can manage to get out of the mall without gushing a lot..." She walked over to the baby changing table and carefully laid him down on it and started looking through her diaper bag to find the changing blanket she uses so she could lay him down more comfortably. Angelina picked her head up, a little surprised at how easily Johanna's thoughts could jump from her son to her and back again. "You know, she's so tiny...a small would probably fit her well. You could go with sweat pants or basketball shorts till you could go jean shopping, but I think a three would be her go to. Get different sizes for that. Maybe a sports bra would help."  
  
"Are...you giving me shopping advice?" Did she expect him to leave his daughter here while she was suffering?! He felt highly upset about that and bristled.  
  
"I like her." Angelina piped up from her position on the floor. "I can't go anywhere."  
  
Johanna laughed as she laid out the changing blanket and started getting to work, not even wrinkling her nose at the smell. "James, like she said, she can't go anywhere. And you're not leaving her to die. It's a nosebleed." She looked at him as she folded up the dirty diaper and unwrapped the new. She put the dirty one in the wrapper and tossed it in the trashcan. "I'm not saying you're leaving her with me. I'm not even suggesting that. What I /am/ suggesting is a faster way of shopping."  
James stared at her, then at Angelina. He went back and forth about five times before his jaw ticked and he settled on his daughter, "Were there any colors you liked in the first store?" He wouldn't grab a whole lot, just enough to switch out through the week until they could try again.  
  
"I liked the bright ones." Angelina said after a moment of thought. "The dark bright ones...like...a hot pink or a bright purple. Bright blue."  
  
"Purrrr." Leo had spat out his pacifier and was happy to finally be back in bottoms that fit and no longer exposed to the world. He grinned with a few teeth that were starting to come in as Johanna picked him up. "Blagh."  
  
"Alright, then." James nodded and reluctantly got up. He gave Johanna a warning glance over his sunglasses before turning on his heel and practically storming out. He didn't like this, but Angelina didn't mind her. He gathered brightly colored neon tops in smalls, some with sayings, some with designs. Price didn't matter to him, even though he did check the fabric. If was something he would wear on his own skin she wouldn't mind it, right? Soft, a few silky. He grabbed skirts and leggings for the hot summer weather, but mindful if they were long enough to cover her scars. Light blue jeans, regular blue jeans, and a really fashionable pair of dark blue jeans.  
  
So much for not buying a lot. He had four bags from four different places and a box of sneakers nestled in the crook of his elbow that he'd checked to see if they were in multiple sizes for exchange if they didn't fit. A multi-pack of socks were in the box as well. Underwear and that bra was something he wouldn't do. A shady guy with a ballcap, jacket and sunglasses walking into Victoria's Secret? Fuck no.  
  
Con-fucking-firm. He'd risked enough for one day.  
  
While he was busy running around and getting clothes for her, Angelina and Johanna had a bit of a conversation. Mostly Angelina lying about where she came from, and Johanna telling her about Leo. Leo, the one year old, was happy to crawl around on the bathroom floor and had found himself a seat on Angelina's lap. When her nose stopped bleeding, he patted her cheeks a few times, cooing pleased sounds. His thoughts didn't make any sense, for children didn't really think. Johanna handed her a stuffed animal that was a favorite, and he happily shook it in his lap, sometimes pushing it in Angelina's face before taking it back and tossing it so he had a reason to crawl.  
  
"I see you made a tiny friend," James drawled as he set the bags and box down, making Johanna jump from his stealthy entrance. "I'll take back anything you don't like."  
  
"Okay." Angelina said softly and she looked over at Leo but he was looking at James in the same awe that he had stared at him the first time he walked in.  
  
"Ba-ba!" He finally said, pointing at James.  
  
"What? You need somebody to play with you while your friend takes a moment?" James sat down with crossed legs and picked up the toy that was laying on the ground nearby, his long arms doing him good.  
  
"Ba-be." Leo said seriously as Angelina stood up and set him down. She started rummaging through the clothes and picked the shirts first. Johanna had to smile warmly as she went into the stall to start changing them. He stuck his tongue out and blew a perfect raspberry when James held the stuffed animal just a bit away from him. He crawled over to James and got on his lap. He looked a bit surprised that his lap was a little steeper and longer than Angelina's, but he didn't let it bother him for long. He ignored the stuffed animal in favor for the sunglasses. "is-is." He babbled.  
  
"Oh Leo don't take them off of him," Johanna sighed exasperatedly. "They're on his face for a reason."  
  
"Is-is." He repeated insistently. "No."  
  
Query: Why would she defend him? He could just be a regular ol' dude who wore sunglasses inside to be a douche. He acted perfectly fine so not to be thought of as blind. Curious. Yet he kept his hand on his glasses so not to let the baby remove them, "Mama said no, little one." He said firmly.  
  
Leo stopped going after the glasses, but he did pat James's cheeks. "No." He grinned like it was the funniest word he said. "No." He sat down on his lap and grabbed his stuffed lion. "Grrrr."  
  
"Grrr," James answered back, not letting the lion go and making it bob in the air, "Rawr, rawr, grrr, grrr..." He felt...so silly doing this, but he felt some of the tension leaving his shoulders. Children weren't afraid of him. Like the girl from the train. He glanced up at the stall Angel went into, "Is everything okay?"  
  
"I'm trying on last one," Angelina answered after a moment. "I like them all. They fit. They feel weird. Not used to wearing things like this." She explained the best that she could. "Feels good." She finally came out of the stall and smiled. "I'll try the pants on. Then the shoes. We can go after." She looked at Johanna and frowned. "Do you have to leave?"  
  
"I'm fine being here." Johanna assured. "My son thinks that your dad is the bee's knees right now."  
  
"He is." Angelina chirped happily putting the shirts back into one bag and started taking out the pants and going back into the stall to try them on.  
  
"Maw." Leo frowned, watching Angelina go back into the stall. "Gil!"  
  
"Bees knees? Do bees even have knees?" It took considerable effort to not use the word 'query' for those questions. It was just such a ridiculous phrase.  
  
"Huh? Oh no, it's a metaphor." Johanna laughed a little. "My grandmother used to say it, and I was really attached to her so I started saying it."  
  
"That's...odd. Okay." He really didn't know what else to say to this woman. Her child was cute, though. He continued to distract him with the animal and also had to keep him from taking his hat off when he got too close. Though he did take a glance at her supplies for the baby. "Black Widow is a good fighter. You like her?"  
  
"You could say that." Johanna smiled warmly as she watched Leo play with James. She was kind of pleased to see that Leo was tiring out. A baby could only take so much excitement. "My mother wanted me to go with Captain America, but my friend beat her to the punch and bought me everything that was Black Widow. She didn't know I was having a boy at the time. Though when she found out, she basically screamed score so..."  
  
"Scr-" James stopped himself. Asking about another phrase could be suspicious. This was getting increasingly more difficult and he just smiled instead. When Angel was done they would leave the mall and do something quiet and fun before going back to the hotel. Okay, that could be something useful to know. "Is there any good places for ice cream outside of the mall? Not DQ." Too crowded there, too, out of popularity.  
  
"Actually if you walk down a few blocks east, there's a cute mom and pop's ice cream store you could go into. It's rarely crowded," Johanna smiled warmly. "Ice cream's really good especially for times like these."  
  
"That's good. I know taste is muddled by the taste of blood, so any flavor suggestions?" Would chocolate ice cream with the taste of blood be weird?  
  
"Hmm...." Johanna was thoughtful. "Chocolate actually would be a good idea. That or something with a strong after taste like mint. It will be weird the first few licks, but...after a while it should settle." She looked at James with a soft smile. "Another thing you could do, is make sure she gets rest. No running around doing things. A bath helps so much too. Not a super hot one, but a nice warm one. A good one."  
  
"Oh!" James picked the baby up and crawled over himself to her on his knees, the baby laughing as he was swung around, but he was secure even if his clothing was thoroughly rumpled, "There was Bath and Body Works place," he whispered, "Any scents that would be soothing for her?" He had an odd time figuring out a pitch that would be too low for her to hear but loud enough for Johanna.  
  
"I think it depends on her sense of smell, but...if I were go to with a scent, my favorite is the Japanese Cherry Blossoms. But I also use Lavender Vanilla. Now that's a very soothing scent I think." She murmured quietly. "Do you want me to stay here while you run off and do another round? I promise, I can keep Angelina entertained for a bit."  
  
"Okay. Here's Leo," James put the baby on his mother's lap and patted his head before taking off quickly. Not a run, but a brisk walk. He was glad to help his daughter out anyway he could, really.

* * *

"I liked her," Angelina said as they walked down the road, towards the small ice cream place that Johanna had talked to them about. The small family was so pleased when Angelina liked all of the clothes and nothing had to be returned. Johanna got up and Leo had fallen asleep so they said their goodbyes and had left. Now, it was just back to her and her father again. "Her mind was nice. Soothing. She's a good mother."  
  
"I'm glad you're better...I'm sure my mental pattern wasn't the best anchor." James furrowed his brows, "I'm very sorry, fetiță. I wasn't the best with her, either, but I was better by the end of it. I didn't know what to do or say."  
  
Angelina frowned and she turned around walking backwards. "Cautious." She told him gently. "I was vulnerable. Mall has cameras. She could have outed us, if she wanted." She smiled at him. "Isn't it nice to talk to another parent?"  
  
"Not...certain. Would require more input. I have a bit more clarity, however. Her own child was cute." James smiled softly, "Let's see how ice cream settles in your stomach now, hmm? Then we'll go rest and you can take a bath with your new bath wash."  
  
Angelina beamed as she spun around easily and gracefully and fell back into step with him. "I like being out here." She said after a moment. "It's weird. No one to demand things. No mission report. It's nice. Scary though. But today is good."  
  
"Frustrating, but good?" James smiled just a bit wider and ruffled her hair a little bit, "I'm glad. This is good. Let's keep up the good work."

* * *

Steve sat in the Stark Tower coffee shop with a sketchbook in hand. He tapped his pencil on the page, thinking about the file of photos that he had read over and over and over again. It’s been a good few days, but the nightmares were  terrifying. The images of the horrifying pictures of the mutilated bodies, of the fun photo the girl took with the head lingered in his dreams like a bad omen. He thought about Bucky and his cold stare as he shot down the people. He thought about all of the reasons as to why he would go back to England to save someone like that, but he couldn’t think of anything besides that Bucky…probably saw something in her. Probably saw a reason to free her.  
  
“Hey there Capiscle. Not the first time I see you in my coffee shop.” Tony took the chair and sat down next to him, pushing up his sunglasses despite being indoors. He wore a tailored suit in the most casual fashion Steve had to cringe upon. “Files of the Winter Soldier?” He asked, taking a glance.  
  
“And a female who did most of the leg work.” Steve said softly, “You wouldn’t want to see it, Stark.”  
  
“No?” Tony demanded, grabbing the file and opening it. He frowned at the photos and at the statement that was written there. “Not much to go on, huh?”  
  
“You can’t track down a ghost, you can only find it’s tracks.” Steve shrugged helplessly, “Fury thinks that the moment Bucky shows himself he could get him arrested.”  
  
“Well, he did do bad things, Cap.” Tony said slowly, “Especially if he freed a mass murderer.”  
  
“No one knows who she is, what she is, or why she’s around.” He took the file back, closing it up. “Did you see the picture of her holding the severed head?”  
  
“No…was I supposed to?”  
  
“I think that’s one of the few pictures I’ll stay away from if I were you.” He shook his head from side to side. “He did do bad things, but you know as well as I do it was Hydra’s fault.”  
  
Tony tilted his head, “If you go with the brainwashing and the torture, yeah.” He said slowly. “But seventy years worth of it? No one’s going to take that as a POW case. They’re going to think that he defected from the war. You might get someone who’d listen to a sympathetic ear, but it depends on how loud those people are.”  
  
“Not loud enough to change a sentencing.” Steve said sourly.  
  
“What about the girl? Any idea what she might be in for?”  
  
“Tony, we know nothing…” Steve said exasperatedly. “If we did, I’m sure Fury would come up with just as bad of a punishment.”  
  
“I should get J.A.R.V.I.S in on this.” Tony mused, “It might be fun to sneak around and see whose Hydra’s killing machine. That being said though…” He looked at Steve. “You think the Winter Soldier can be tamed?”  
  
“Not tamed, but…I think he can learn to be himself again.” Steve looked at Tony, pleading. “I think that we keep looking at his crimes and not seeing the person behind it. I think that we need to start realizing that he was a POW and that it was all Hydra’s fault regardless of how America tries to spin it.”  
  
“What about the girl? He goes all the way back to England to save her. He’s not just going to drop her at the drop of a dime either. You think she can be tamed?” Tony asked.  
  
“I trust Bucky’d judgement.” He kept his eyes square on his friend. “I think that she’s probably going to be the one we’ll need to be the most careful of.”  
  
“So we have a deadly assassin and a deadly mass murderer. All under one roof. That’s going to be interesting.”  
  
“Tony…”  
  
“I’ll tell you what, Steve. If you can find them before Fury does, and drag them into the Tower, we’ll pretend that they’re not here. Magically mysteriously disappeared. We’ll have no idea what they’re doing or who they are. When in fact, they’re right here. Safe from harm.”  
  
“You sure Tony? We don’t know about the girl…” Steve said slowly.  
  
“We don’t, but I’m going to see what I can’t dig up. Even if we can’t find anything, I’d rather have a mass murderer under my roof than somewhere I can’t find them.” Tony said slowly. “I’d also rather have them be loyal to your friend. Maybe hopefully that means they’ll be loyal to you, too.”  
  
“God you’re weird,” Steve relaxed.  
  
"I'm the best, you just don't say it loud enough," Tony answered, clapping Steve on the back and leaving him at the cafe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if anyone has any advice how 1-year old babies act or know any reference sites for writers on how to write toddlers/children, that'd be great as neither my co-writer nor I have kids of our own.


	6. Not ok, but we're Surviving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Angelina trade having nightmares and then have a bit of time outside for some fresh air. It just isn't a good time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys get two chapters this weekend! Cuz I am just forgetful, simple as that ^^()

_Was that his **liver**_?  
  
_Oh god his head was spinning. Breathing increasing._  
  
_Everything faded back to black._  
  
_Pretty sure the only thing they never removed was his heart. Confirm. Thank the Lord, however feeble that praise was. A lot of time he felt like they might as well. Maybe one of the times they killed him he'd **stay**  dead before they pumped him full of electricity to jump-start his heart before his brain died._  
  
_His throat was scratchy and raw and when he coughed he tasted blood. Yet he couldn't scream anymore. They were cutting his feet. This was when he was caught the first time. What was with his feet? Didn't want him to run. Not that he could escape on his own. The bonds were so tight he swore he couldn't feel his fingers. Did he have frostbite? Probably._  
  
_Blackness was something he called friend for sweet relief and something he was afraid of because he as much as he prayed for it, he didn't /want/ to die. It still came for him, though._  
  
_He woke up again and was gasping. His mouth was dry. The water they splashed on him touched his tongue but it felt like he was drinking air. It didn't stick. The only thing that stuck was is own blood when they beat his face in._  
  
_That was worse._  
  
_The cell was cold and grimy. Rust everywhere. No such thing as sanitary._  
  
_Out. He wanted out. Brainwashed and didn't know who he was, where he was, who these people were until they gave him information. Hydra. Winter Soldier. Asset. Ghost story. He still wanted out. He defected a lot, whether or not he remembered what he needed to. They always brought him back. Punished him. Wiped away the want to get out. Gave him shorter missions. Didn't give him a chance to want to get out. Though they punished him sometimes for speaking out of turn because they wanted a reason._  
  
_Punishment. Chair. Electricity. Flashing blue lights. Flashing blue lights! No, no, keep it away! What did he do wrong this time?!_  
  
_He left. He defected. They were coming for him. No! No! Go away! He didn't want to go back! Didn't want the bitter taste of the rubber bit, didn't want to feel the leather of the chair sticking to his sweaty skin. NO! NO!_  
  
Angelina woke up to the screams first. She had nearly jumped out of bed just an ambulance was going by, flashing red and blue the siren blazing loudly. She quickly got out of her bed and got on his bed. She knew this was a bad idea, but hell she'd rather be shot at than to have someone knock on the door and wonder what the fuck was wrong with them. She grabbed him by the shoulder and tugged, hard as she could while she carefully started working on getting some of the covers off of him. He'd get tangled, then he'd fall and hurt himself, and he might accidentally shoot himself, and it was just a no go. "You're not there." She said firmly. "You're not there. You're not _there_. You're here."  
  
"Punishment! Defected. Want their property back." James blurted first when he jerked away, hearing only the end of her words. His bolted upright and his head snapped back and forth to look across the whole room, his eyes huge. How _messy_  had they been in a few days! Inefficient! Longer cleanup. Unacceptable! "Anzhelina! Can't. Can't stay. Gotta move. Gotta go. Clean up." He kicked the covers the rest of the way off and stumbled out of the bed, still groggy and wobbly, grasping half-blind in the darkness of the room with only the city lights to light the space.  
  
Angelina paused in thought before she started talking. "Did you know that the body gets heavier when you die? It's really heavy. People think that it's because there's something called a soul that makes the body lighter. I never seen a soul yet. I don't think I'll be able to. But I heard that souls have colors too. I think your color would be a blue or a red. I think a blue. Do you remember passing people on the park? They were riding bikes, I thought that was really cool. I can't ride one, never learned. I think I'd fall on my face. The rollarblades looked pretty awesome too. But I'm more partial to the swing sets."  
  
James had slipped for the fourth time and was finally packing things into his duffle bag while sitting on his ass when she started babbling. He stared at her with his still wide, unblinking eyes until the bike part and then it was slow. He was startled and confused by her words. Making sense yet constantly changing topics so by the time his brain realized she was talking about one thing she was talking about another. By the end of it, his hands weren't even idly moving and he was only really thinking 'why isn't she packing?' rather than the urgent _need_  to pack and /why/.  
  
"We don't have to leave." Angelina explained, crawling over to his part of the bed and lying down on it. She looked at him seriously. "We're okay. See? No one's banging on the door. The ambulance is far away now."  
  
"Ambulance?" It was slow and highly confused. What ambulance? "Blue flashes...not...punishment?" the query was hesitant rather than slow this time and it sounded small, as small as she was.  
  
"No punishments exist here." Angelina replied firmly before her lips curved down. "Remember? No handler." She sat up and smiled at him softly. "You're safe with me."  
  
"Safe." James chewed harshly on his lip, looked around the room again a lot more slowly, listened carefully, but the only sounds were that of is breathing and the City that Never Sleeps. Slowly, letting go of the knife he had in his hand, he slowly got back onto the bed and reached for her, making sure she was real before he drew her into a slow hug. It took several long moments before his shoulders started to drop their tension and he nosed her shoulder, a long exhale leaving him, "Safe...no punishment, no handler. Safe." It was firmer each time he said it, and he nodded, as if starting to believe it.  
  
Angelina hugged him back, enjoying the closeness since it was rare for him to go for one. It was happening more often, but she didn't want to jinx it, and lose it. "Safe." She repeated, soft and held him close. "See _tată_? No one to hurt you. No one to hurt me. You're safe with me. We don't go back to the snakes."  
  
"No...no we don't, _fetiță_." James shook his head and kissed her temple, but still held onto her as he grabbed the blankets and flopped them back onto the bed, giving her a tiny smile at the silliness of it. "Safe."

* * *

 _It was a steady of sound of metal creaking and bars slamming like a prison, and the rhythm of someone marching to an unsaid beat. Their boots thumped in time with the creaking of the metal. The slam was always fading farther and farther away, but the creaking was coming closer and the steady of the foot falls were coming closer. Angelina couldn’t see anything but red outside of the cage. She could see the silhouette of the bars and she could see if someone was coming or going through the corridor, but she couldn’t see anything else but red. Nothing but red. She stared at it, determined not to flinch. It was a game handlers played sometimes, to see if she could handle being around the dark._  
  
_It was a wonder how little she managed not to be so afraid and learned that darkness was a comfort. But this was no comfort. She could hear the thumps, it was louder, like it was right next to her, but it was impossible to be next to her because she was alone. No one dared opened her cage just to try to make her jump. The last time they did that, the guys’ body was stabbed so many times and flung around till he was nothing but a pile of organs with some bone…but not enough to really show who it was._  
  
_The cage creaked, creaked and Angelina must have blinked because she saw a head staring at her. A head that had long sharp teeth, blood at the eyes and crying some sort of liquid that wasn’t blood nor tears. It smelled of acid. It was smiling at her and the eyes looked familiar. Crazed and wide. There wasn’t any skin on the head either. Just a ball of muscle…dripping blood all over the floor in a steady rhythm that matched the heavy footsteps._  
  
_“Sweet child what are you doing in here?”_  
  
_What was she doing in here? She looked over at the organ mess that she had made. When did it appear? It would make the head go away, maybe. She decided to take the stomach. For some reason the stomach and the kidneys always made people cringe the most. She could do the heart, but they cringed when she had it in her hands, an she wanted to throw it. So, she threw the stomach at the head. The head splattered with blood and acid, a lot of it went through the bars._  
  
_Her aim sucked._  
  
_“That’s not a very nice thing to do.”_  
  
_“Leave me alone.”_  
  
_The head shrunk itself and then popped back into shape, floating carelessly without a problem and headed her way. She was starting to get scared. Floating heads don’t exist. They don’t. She could hear a skittering of whispers, like people were talking behind her back. But she couldn’t tell what they were saying. She stood up slowly and the head’s teeth chattered, like it was trying to smile brightly. She noticed the teeth were serrated._  
  
_“You can’t leave.” The head said. “Cut off a head and two shall take it’s place.”_  
  
_Just like that she watched in muted horror as the head split self into two separate things. She watched as the muscle contracted and pulled, bones breaking and mending in order to create the second head. The second head laughed loudly and she watched it come close to her. She closed her eyes, bracing herself and she felt something enclose around her leg and she felt a **snap**._  
  
_She panicked and she looked down to see that one of her legs was missing all of the sudden. It was bleeding heavily and she could feel her heart throb in her thigh. The blood gushed like a waterfall and she felt her stomach coil. Her head jerked back and the second head had it between it’s teeth. She tried to move after it, but she fell on her face. She screamed, loudly, maybe someone would come and get her. The head laughed and she felt something tear into her arm. She was too busy watching in horror as the second head was eating her leg._  
  
_She felt the head bite her by the elbow and was slowly pulling it away from her. She watched as skin tore and muscles showed only to also tear and reveal bone that was breaking…breaking…pulling…she was screaming. Screaming. She made a fist with her other hand and punched as hard as she could at the head._  
  
_“We’ll make you stay and be useless. But that’s okay. As long as we leave that alone, you could bring us more.”_  
  
_So, instead of losing her arm like she foolishly lost her leg, she decided to do something. So she punched_  
  
_She punched._  
  
_She screamed._  
  
_And screamed._  
  
_And punched._  
  
_And the red disappeared._  
  
_The creaking sound was loud._  
  
_But there was a voice, panicked stricken…_  
  
_She couldn’t tell if she was wet from sweat or something else._  
  
_She couldn’t tell if she was safe or not. But the person’s voice was loud._  
  
_She flung her fist and she felt it catch on something._  
  
_But the first thing that she noticed was that she was hurting. She hurt. Something was **wrong**._  
  
"Anzhelina! You're hurting yourself! Stop! Stop!" He couldn't read her mind. He didn't know what was going on. All he knew was she was punching her arm as if she was trying to get something off of her. She'd woken him up with her shouting and he felt his stomach twisting. After remembering the night before this morning, he had debating leaving for real, but she'd told him it was fine. This time, once morning came they would have to go. It was good they picked everything up just in case.  
  
"What do you see? What are you dreaming? You're safe, _fetiță_ , I promise. I swear. Come back to me, listen to my thoughts, please," James pleaded as he kept her arms by her sides but otherwise didn't restrain her. He was fine if she kicked him, just as long as she didn't hurt herself.  
  
The room slowly came to focus now that she wasn't punching the thing anymore. She could see flashes of red every time she blinked, but the more she blinked the more she could figure out that she was somewhere else. A room, with a soft bed, no bars, and her tată holding her arms, rubbing them staring at her with fear and panic, concern. She made him scared. She made him so scared, but he was trying so hard. He was thinking good thoughts. He was calling her name, trying to remember good times. Not the ones in Hydra, every time those popped up he shoved them aside with a burning vengeance she could feel. But the mall. The park. The ice cream. " _Tată_?"  
  
A heaving sigh of relief and he let her go immediately, "You're awake. Thank god. You're safe with me. I don't know where you went in your dreams, but you're safe with me. I won't let anything bad happen to you, _fetiță_."  
  
She sat up slowly, taking in the environment. The air was cool, not too warm. The A/C was probably on. He looked so exhausted, and scared. She felt her eyes burn with tears, even though she tried to hold them back. Tears for some reason, Hydra couldn't seem to get rid of it with her. Maybe that's why they thought she was weak. "I don't know." She admitted, her voice shaky. "They took my arm. My leg." She looked at her arm and she could see already a dark red patch from where she had been hitting it. She touched her arm, wincing. She undoubtedly was going to get a bruise. "The head told me. They did it..."  
  
"The...head?" Her dream. Okay. "The head is dumb and wrong. I don't know nor care what it said. You're alive with me. You're safe with me. You're good with me. Non-lethal and good. What you want matters. You matter. You're safe. They didn't take anything and they're not going to." He was ferocious in his words, believing every bit of it, "Do you understand me?"  
  
Angelina frowned, and she looked back at her arm that she had been punching in her sleep. She held onto it and she bit her lip hard, trying to keep the tears at bay. "I'm...safe with you. Nothing was taken...and they won't take anything. You won't-" She burst into tears but she tried to keep steady. "l-let them and I mat-matter to y-you."  
  
"That's right, baby. Can I hold you? C'mere," He offered with his arms out for her to come to him.  
  
Angelina didn't hesitate. She crawled over to him and fell into his arms and buried her head into his shoulder, holding him tightly. "I'm so scared." She told him softly, like she was admitted a secret. "So scared. I don't want to go back there. I don't like that dream."  
  
James wasted no time in using his huge super-soldier body and her tiny 18-year old body to his advantage to wrap her up like he was just a big living blanket. Holding her close and tight, he rubbed her arm soothingly to try and make it feel better, rocking her from side to side, "Remember the night before. Remember what you told me. You're not the one with a bad memory, Anzhelina. We're not there. They aren't coming for us. We're safe. We're not okay, obviously, but we have our good days. Two bad days is nothin'. It's going to be worse. It's going to be better. It's a stupid roller-coaster and one day I'll take you to the amusement park to experience what that's like and where that reference comes from. Wouldn't that be an experience?"  
  
Angelina laughed, choking on her tears, but she nodded. It'd be nice to see what that meant. She listened to his heartbeat and she let herself be rocked from side to side, knowing that she was safe here. She was safe right in his arms. He was right, they weren't there. Wherever _there_  was in their heads. Hydra, a cell, they weren't there. They were here, in nice beds, without handlers breathing down their necks. With a nonlethal mission. "Yeah." She agreed after a moment, her tears subsiding and she just felt exhausted. " _Te iubesc_." **I love you.** She murmured to him.

* * *

One thing he had to say about the libraries in New York is that they were all huge. Every. Single. One of them. He could wander the isles for days. Books for days. This was something both he and his daughter agreed was ten times better than sitting in the second hotel they'd moved to moping. This satisfied the need for quiet as well as the need to move and requirement to practice being around people. Said people gave Angelina weird looks when she went to the kid's section, but she promptly ignored them, even playing with some of the children quietly by reenacting scenes for them. Angelina was good at using her accent and using no accent to make an interesting combination of voices.  
  
James had gotten them coffee from the 'Starbucks' next to the library as well. His was delicious, full of two pumps of hazelnut, two pumps of vanilla, a whole damn banana for protein with protein powder on top of it and the best part? The base was a vente double chocolate chip java. It'd taken him half an hour to come up with this combination sitting at a table listening to mixtures of plain and complicated custom-made orders.  
  
None of the books were really calling out to him, and he realized he hadn't really caught up on recent news lately. So James wandered over to the computers, using the info on the paper attached to the monitor to log in. Yahoo seemed to be the first thing that came to mind, so he checked that. It went on from there, checking some other new places, the weather...before he finally got bored. He didn't want to make an e-mail yet. He didn't have anybody beside Angel. Though...that made him glance over at someone who was on the computer but using their phone. Perhaps that would be useful. A flip pre-paid throwaway phone for each of them. Cheep as dirt, too.  
  
The children had really loved her reenactments for the stories, but the parents finally decided that once the last story was done and over with they had to go. She really enjoyed telling the stories, the plot lines weren't too hard nor complex and she liked how simple the characters were. There wasn't any hidden motives or destiny involved and she liked that. She really enjoyed the pictures most of all, and she wanted to bring some to take home with her, at the very least to read a thousand times. It made her wonder what she would have to do to get a library card, but decided that maybe that should be saved for another day. She placed the books back, vowing to return and read them to herself rather than play with the kids...though she wasn't sure if that'd hold up. She wandered down the aisles afterwards, humming to herself, and getting familiar with the area until she came to the computer room. She recognized her dad's back instantly and smiled. He was trying, but that meant she had to try too.  
  
They did hotel hop, and she hadn't noticed anyone following them, but it was better to be safe than sorry. She walked over to one of the free computers and logged in, thanking the heavens that it was for free. She first decided to see what was up with S.H.I.E.L.D and started working through the sites, but she wasn't finding anything that was worth much besides the whole collapsing part. So, she decided that it might be best to go through and try to get through the Avengers. They were technically a part of S.H.I.E.L.D collapsed or not but at the same time they _weren't_. It was a very thin boundary, and one she needed to figure out more about.  
  
"So just what would you do if I got you a laptop? Nothin' fancy, but enough to do research and other stuff like this?" James asked as she was between pages, looking at a big article on the alien invasion that happened.  
  
Angelina blinked slowly and looked up at her dad who was over her shoulder suddenly and she smiled, "It'll be fine." She assured, "I worked with less. It might be better. I can't do the thing I want on a library computer. Too public and too easy. But this I can do." She looked back at the articles. "I don't think S.H.I.E.L.D's gone. Gone rouge maybe."  
  
Why was there a sudden nagging feeling in the back of his mind? Ugh. Was his super-soldier enhanced mind capable of amazing mathematical equations, calculating flawlessly for sniper-rifle shots, and tactical decisions _forgetting something_ **important** again? More than fucking likely and it frustrated the hell out of him. "I'll get you something easy to carry around. I need to get you a bigger travel backpack anyway, with your extra clothes. There's those tiny one-hander laptops? Oh, and would you agree a toss phone would be practical for us if we get separated?"  
  
Angelina frowned and reached up, patting his shoulder. "Yes to the phone and easy to carry around." She smiled. "Anything will work. A bigger travel bag?" She supposed that the small backpack wasn't going to cut it anymore so she nodded after a moment. "I guess that's true. I have more things, and about to get more things. We'll be getting a home soon. Then we'll be able to put things in places."  
  
"Imagine that, putting things in places. I should've been looking at that. Now I gotta go log back in," James rubbed his face, "I'll leave you to whatever you're doing. I'll show you anything I find. I'm thinking we'll be here until close? Just so we can get our fill of the internet?" he smiled a bit.  
  
"Sounds like fun," Angelina beamed. "I can always go back to the play room if I'm bored." She watched him go back to his computer and she looked at hers. Well, might as well make this last. The Avengers had Steve Rogers after all, surely they'd see it the same way as a mission to figure out more information.


	7. MISSION IMPERATIVE: BIRTHDAY GIFTS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James remembers that thing he was forgetting

The night had been fairly restful after the last two giving them little to no sleep. It was a minor miracle and so when it happened it was when the sun was starting to peek it's head up around 5:30. The super-soldier and his half-super daughter were just starting to wake up, groggy from sleeping so deeply for once, and then suddenly...  
  
James jerked violently in his bed, gripping the sides, eyes wide and a deep gasp filling the room, but oddly enough the only shouting was in his head. _IT'S JULY. JULY FOURTH. BIRTHDAY. STEVE'S BIRTHDAY. PRESENTS. STEVE DOESN'T HAVE PRESENTS FOR HIS BIRTHDAY._  
  
Angelina had been kind of happy that wasn't anything exciting going on, but the moment that the words: _IT'S JULY_ echoed through her brain. She gripped it, in the same manner that her father was gripping his and she looked over at him with an expression that was horribly torn between concern and what the actual fuck was happening and Steve. Steve. Holy shit they forgot about Steve. They were the worst mission assists in the world. She started cracking up despite the yelling in her head that made her want to scream back.  
  
"STEVE!" James finally bolted upright and looked at Angelina in absolute horror, "We forgot about Steve! is birthday. It's coming up." _I HAVEN'T CHECKED TO SEE IF HE'S EVEN STILL ALIVE!_ rattled around in his mind, blaring like a neon sign. _MISSION PROTECT. YOU'RE A FAILURE. WHAT KIND OF PROTECTOR ARE YOU? REALLY. CONFIRM. ASSHOLE._  
  
Angelina sat up and she walked over to him and she grabbed him by the wrists. "Not a failure. Good protector." She watched him for a moment. "He's alive. News outlets would've said otherwise. National mourning would be happening right now. We have time to find things that he likes. Damage control. What can we do first?"  
  
"I...I...don't know. I can't think. What time is it?" James looked for the watch on the nightstand. He hated wearing it in his sleep because it stabbed him and the ticking drove him nuts. "Five-forty...so early to go out right now but I need air."  
  
"Let's run." Angelina grinned as she let him go and smiled. "You bought me things to run in. I know you have things to run in. Let's run. It'll be fun. I'll race you."  
  
"Okay...yeah. A run. Let's do that. I'll get dressed in the bathroom." Throw some water on his face, wake up a little more and they'd go.

* * *

Run, run, Angelina huffed as they kept up a light paced jog. Well, to them it was a light paced jog. To others, they were probably marathon runners, or something like that. She was barely breaking a sweat, and neither was her dad. They didn't talk much, focused completely on their breathing, the road, and trying to get the nightmares and the panic attack off of their backs. She blinked when she noticed that there was a tall, blonde man heading their direction. He was a good far distance away, but it was enough for her to grab her dad's wrist and pull him ruining his momentum. "Go the way we came." She told him. "Okay? If I don't meet with you, it's target. If I do meet up with you, it's not him and I panicked for nothing okay? Go go. I got this." She shooed him and she bent down on her hands and knees, pretending to catch her breath.  
  
Steve huffed as he ran the course, his mind still buzzing about the files that had been placed on his desk. The alien invasion had been a welcomed distraction, but once the action had calmed down he was back to square one with his worry. He needed to find a way to bring Bucky in, without him worrying about being tried. He had to get him to be apart of the Avengers ASAP before Nick Fury found them, and by God he was thankful they weren't caught yet. They stayed away from him, and that was good...and disheartening. He passed a girl who was hunched over and he carefully paused, jogging in place. "Hey, are you okay?" He asked, worriedly. She could be having an asthma attack, or maybe she pushed herself too hard. He didn't know. But when she looked up, he noticed that she was smiling. Smiling and not at all looking like she was suffering any oxygen deprivation.  
  
"I'm okay." She said, letting her accent get heavy on the words. He blinked at her, so that was good. It meant one, he wasn't expecting a foreigner and two, it just made his guard go up. Which wasn't good. He was looking like he was about to run as far away as he could. "I tripped and got scared. Who are you?"  
  
"I'm Steve Rogers," Steve looked like he was swallowing a lemon at the same time he was trying to be kind. He held his hand out to her and he was kind of shocked at the strength she put behind it. Her handshake was strong...not at all like how some women shook hands. "It's nice to meet you?"  
  
"Anzhelina. Or I think the American version of my name is Angelina. I'm not sure. Your country is weird with names." Angelina said, wincing inwardly and mentally flinging apologies to her dad wherever he ran off to. "Steve. It's a good name. I like it. Are you from around here?"  
  
"Uh...yeah I was born in Brooklyn though. Harlem is mostly my home base." Steve paused, "I say base but what I really mean is that it's my new home basically. I'm sorry I'm still getting used to being out of the military." He wondered if that was too much of a hint, but Angelina was nodding like she never heard of it before so..."Where are you from?"  
  
"Rus-Romania. I'm a Russian-Romanian." Angelina needed to figure out where she was from because holy fuck this was bad. Shit. Undercover work was not for her in any sense of the means, and she decided to wing it. Her dad was probably either really furious, really concerned, or not at all certain what to feel at all. "I lived in both. I was Russian born though. But Romania is home."  
  
"Sounds...really interesting." Steve blinked, the Romanian accent did give away her love for the country. He would never guess Russia though. "Do you mind running with me? I mean, I'll slow down my pace for you so that we can talk."  
  
"Whatever pace is fine," Angelina beamed. "I like running." They started up a comfortable pace, though Steve wasn't sure if it was entirely comfortable for her. It was the same pace he was running at before, only just a few paces slower. "Do you like it here?"  
  
"Well..." Steve frowned deeply, "What do you know about Captain America?" Just how much did she know about the man? And did she realize that him and the Captain were the same person?  
  
"Not much." Angelina shrugged. Besides being a moral enemy of Hydra, her dad's best friend and her uncle, and knowing that baseball was the All-American sport, Angelina had to wince. She really, /really/ didn't know anything about him.  
  
Steve nodded, though he didn't seem to be /too/ upset with her. He looked almost relieved. It made her wonder if he was glad that someone didn't read a textbook and assumed him to be a friend automatically. Sure, it was probably nice to get that trust right off the bat, but people's diligence sure went down a hell lot faster. "I'm Captain America." He sounded like he was confessing a death, mostly a murder of some sort. "I woke up a few years ago from a block of ice. So...a lot of things are new. I like the foods. I like that a lot of sicknesses that plagued our timeline, is finally contained here. I like that we advanced in technology, Bucky would have a blast here."  
  
"Whose Bucky?" Angelina's eyebrows furrowed. She never once heard that name before.  
  
"He was my Sargent back in the war." Steve's teeth bit his lower lip, "He fell off of a train in the Alps."  
  
"Oh." So Bucky was her dad. Which meant that James....what was James? "That sucks."  
  
He burst into laughter, not really expecting /that/. The usual sorries maybe, or even her begging for him to tell the story word for word. "Yeah, yeah it really does suck." He shook his head from side to side. "You know you're the first person to keep up with me on a run."  
  
"That's because I'm good at my job," Angelina lifted her head a little and a bright smile came on her face. "I'll tell you if it becomes too much. "Do you know what a birthday is?"  
  
Steve nearly tripped in his momentum, but he kept running, giving her a weird look. "Y...yes I do. It's the day that you were born on. I'm guessing you don't have one?"  
  
"I don't remember. I haven't looked." Angelina shrugged, "So when's yours?"  
  
"July the Fourth." Steve said slowly.  
  
"Oh. No wonder your Captain America then." She hummed.  
  
"Jeez that sounds just like what Bucky would say," Steve rolled his eyes. "Sam would be saying things that I should be showing off my patriotic pride or something. /Really/ show the good red white and blue."  
  
"....You'd look terrible in white and red." Angelina admitted bluntly.  
  
Steve had to stop in his run to laugh a little. Angelina paused, jogging in place for a moment before she too stopped. "Yeah, I don't think I'd look good in white either. I like blues and greens."  
  
"Maybe," She frowned. "What do you do for your birthday?"  
  
"Well, I don't know about what other people do. But I just usually sit around until Natasha drags me out or Sam," Steve answered. "You know, do other things besides worry about my age."  
  
Angelina slowly blinked, "Other things are more important than age. That's not fun though. If I had a birthday I'd want to be filled with fun things. I wouldn't know what those fun things /were/, but...you know. Do something besides mope. Your Bucky wouldn't like that all too much if he found out."  
  
Steve gave her a fond smile. "We just met and you're already worried about my birthday crisis huh?"  
  
"I think you're too young to be acting like a dying man." She frowned. "What do you like to do?"  
  
That was...an interesting thing to say. She probably wasn't counting the seventy years that he was stuck in the ice. That was really sweet of her. So many people were hoping that they could see the nineteen forties old fashioned way of thoughts, the strong beliefs that would never hold up in today's morals. "I like do art. I like to explore and find places to hang out. Sometimes that means cafes, parks, gardens. Have you been to a garden before?"  
  
"No." She shook her head from side to side.  
  
"Well, there is one in New York I think you'd like. You should check it out while you're roaming around here." Steve smiled at her. "You should try it. What else do I like doing. I like saving the world from bad guys, being the advocate people need so that they can protest freely."  
  
"Are you real?" Angelina raised an eyebrow at him and her expression was just filled with concern.  
  
"Um...I get the feeling that you're not using that as a slang." Steve stared at her.  
  
"It's a query." Angelina looked horrified. "You do that for /fun/?"  
  
"Ummm...."  
  
"You need to learn how to ride a bike." Angelina pursed her lips together and placed her hands on her hips.  
  
"I have a motorcycle?" Steve offered, "I take it out sometimes...."  
  
"You should race!" She clapped her hands excitedly. "I'd cheer you on."  
  
"I am not racing on my bike."  
  
"You need a secret life. You should speed." Angelina frowned. "Maybe ice skate. You could /rollar skate/. You could eat ice cream. I got to try chocolate ice cream for the first time a few days ago! That was fun. I liked it. It was sweeter than I'm used to though. You could draw on a rooftop too. Go somewhere really high!"  
  
"Eating ice cream could be my new "secret life"?" Steve chuckled.  
  
"Well you need /something/." She poked him on the chest. "Don't you ever put down the Captain and just be you?"  
  
"..." Steve stared at her with his mouth slightly hanging open.  
  
"Anzhelina, <come back, time to go.>" rumbled James' deep voice not too far behind them, pitifully tucked sideways against a lamp pole. He'd even made it extra gravelly on purpose so not to give himself away by voice alone. His head was down with his flesh hand on the bill of is hat, and his heart was pounding. Was patchy, still-growing beard enough? He was purposefully growing it out right now so now to draw too much attention, summer heat be damned. 'Please don't realize it's me. Can't make contact. Not now.'  
  
"I have to go. Bye!" Angelina waved and before Steve could even think about stopping her or asking her anymore questions, she took off as fast as she could towards her dad. She spun around, waved again before hooking her arm into his.  
  
Steve watched them leave, getting this /strange/ feeling of deja vu. He shrugged it off, and continued on his run and heading towards the small cafe that Sam was going to meet him at. He didn't feel up to running and had wanted a break, which was the entire reason he had been by himself to begin with, but he wondered if Sam was going to regret not going with him when he was told about this story.

* * *

"Hey, man what's up with you? You look like you just got hit with the questions of the universe," Sam had a raised eyebrow as Steve approached the table they'd adopted as theirs.  
  
"I ran into someone," Steve said as he sat down across from Sam. "Who didn't know anything about me. I mean, it didn't /seem/ like she knew anything about me and Captain America. We got to talking about it...I mean it's really weird talking about myself to someone who doesn't have a clue about me. She...uh....said things."  
  
"You're being real vague, slugger. What kind of things? What did this girl look like? Was there any obvious reason someone doesn't know who the famous Cap is?" Sam nibbled on the danish he'd gotten while he had waited for Steve to get his ass there.  
  
"Sorry my brain's still..." Steve made a loop with his finger and he paused. "Her name is Angelina. She had white hair and the...most interesting colored eyes I seen in a long time. Green mixed with blue, but...like an ombré almost." He paused in thought. "She's from both Russia and Romania...her accents real heavy so she's definitely not from here. She just...didn't know me. She didn't know what a birthday was either...asked me for mine...teased me a bit...but then asked me what I'd like to...do...or have."  
  
"I wonder why she asked that?" Sam agreed that was weird, "Maybe to get you to think about it yourself. It's literally in two days. Stark throwing you some party? Or are you going to spend the day looking for a new apartment after that guy blew your old one up?"  
  
"I have no idea what I'm going to do..." Steve said leaning back in his chair. "She said that I was too young to be thinking like a dead man or something when I told her my previous plan and then started going off that I should race my motorcycle or do something really reckless. I mean, I told her I had one as she listed other things for me to do."  
  
"Yes, because telling Hill to fire on the Helicarrier while you're /still on it/ isn't reckless at all," Sam rolled his eyes, "Your job isn't what she was talking about I know. Maybe you should take your bike onto the open road at least if you don't want to race it. Get a little rush and adrenaline going that isn't fight or flight. You really are thinking like a dying 90 year old instead of a twenty-year old, dreading your birthday like it's the plague. Fireworks I'll give you, not the most fun thing in the world for a vet, but why can't you just thrive on everybody's excitement and cheer?"  
  
"You know you can always drag him here," Steve looked up to see their waitress standing over them with a smile. She had a drink on her tray and her blonde hair was tied up in a high pony-tail. Her skirt was a dark black and her blouse a deep yellow that made her look like a Hufflepuff in a maid's costume. "Have a small celebration and free coffee. What's not to love about that?" She placed down an iced drink in front of him and he smiled at her. "Sorry, I saw you come in looking like the world shattered."  
  
"The world didn't really shatter, but it was a close thing." Steve smiled at her. "I don't know why I avoid it. I guess when I crashed into the Arctic, I really thought it was the end, you know? But when I woke up, I felt like things were taken from me. Toss in the fact that my best friend's...kind of dead. I...never had a reason to celebrate. Not really."  
  
"What am I? Chopped liver? What about that redhead, too? You got friends now, for real. Or is your Bucky the only one you care about?" Sam sniffed dramatically, sticking his nose in the air.  
  
Steve laughed, "Okay, so you're my second best friend. So I'm guessing that means you're going to show me how to enjoy a birthday? That's a big task your undertaking."  
  
"Oh boy Sam, that means you have to go up against Stark." Zan whistled.  
  
"Or I could work together with him? You know I don't even really know that guy very well personally. Would making a birthday party with him really be that bad?" Sam blinked at Steve.  
  
"You could," Steve agreed, "I wasn't the one who pitted you against Stark. She did."  
  
"Oi, I was trying to be helpful!" Zan held her tray up threatening. "Don't tarnish my reputation."  
  
"You sounded like you were dreading the prospect of a Stark party, is all," Sam laughed, "Okay, cool. I get to make a trip to the Stark Tower."  
  
Zan grinned and knocked on the table twice before she left them to their devices, which Steve was grateful for. "I think I owe Stark this, so...you can knock yourself out. Let me finish the drink and we'll head up there, and I'll stay hiding while you two plan."  
  
"Haha, fine, fine. You do what you do and I'll do what I do," Sam nodded happily, "Meeting this Angel girl was a good thing."  
  
"You know what? I think so too. As strange as it was." Steve smiled. "Makes me wonder if I'll run into her again."

* * *

The moment that he woke up and realized what day it was, Steve felt a sicking feeling in his stomach he hadn’t felt since his USO days. Today was his birthday and he had given Tony and Sam free reign over it. He wasn’t too worried about Sam, he trusted his new friend and knew that he was going to keep Stark in check. That being said, he was concerned about all of the loopholes that Tony might have found while planning the said party and how many people were going to be there. He hoped that Sam convinced Tony for just the Avengers. Hell even just fifty people would be easy to handle if Stark went all out. Which he had a tendency to do sometimes.  
  
He pushed the covers away and clicked on the bedside light, looking for his running gear and heading to the restroom to get himself freshened up. Once he felt more human, he put on his clothes and headed out. J.A.R.V.I.S didn’t even try to stop him, so he presumed that it was Sam again. He should have texted him to see if he wanted to run too, but…it was very possible that all of the planning had just worn him down.  
  
He went to his favorite running spot, trying to get the party out of his mind. He wasn’t going to be attacked by anything, and people weren’t going to be there yet. It was early in the morning and no one celebrates early in the morning. Hell, not even Stark which thank his lucky stars. He just needed time to prepare for-  
  
“Uncle Steve?”

What?  
  
He skated to a halt and blinked when he saw Angelina standing at the bench that he had just passed. She wasn’t wearing running gear this time. Just a pair of jeans and a bright neon colored shirt that had the Nyan cat flying across it. She was staring at him curiously and he noticed all of the scars on her arms. But they didn’t look self-inflicted.  
  
“You’re thinking again.”  
  
“Sorry.” Steve’s attention snapped to her. “I wasn’t…I mean….”  
  
Her smile softened. “Early morning. I know. Presents.” She handed him two, which made him blink. “You told me things you liked. So…there’s a thing you like and a thing you might like.” She explained. “Happy Birthday.” She grinned prettily.  
  
It made his heart swell, to think that a stranger would take the time to bring him something like this. He was a little cautious, but…he couldn’t imagine her being any type of danger. “I…”  
  
“It was just to say that. I need to go now. He’ll wonder.”  
  
“Are you okay?”

Angelina blinked and looked at him. “Okay?”  
  
“He’s not hurting you, is he?”  
  
A flash of anger went across her face, before understanding and a sigh. “No. He doesn’t hurt me. He makes sure those who hurt me before can’t get me anymore.”  
  
“Sounds rough…”  
  
“It is. But it’s okay. I…I’m okay.” She smiled thinly. “I feel a little sad. But mostly happy. Happy Birthday, Uncle Steve. I have to go.”  
  
“Wa-“ Steve frowned, that was the second time she called him that. The first time he didn’t even think. Huh. Weird. Maybe she was saying that because of the Uncle Sam jokes that go around for the military people. Hell, he was certain that a lot of the vets at the VA ribbed Sam for that.  
  
He looked down at the presents that he was given. Sure, his run was cut way to short, but…maybe he should take a break from it. He walked to the cafe that Zan worked at and was happy to see that he got there before the morning rush and was able to sit in Zan’s section without too much of a fuss. Of course, so was Sam.  
  
“I ran into her again.” Steve said, placing the presents down on the table. “She’s so strange. Called me Uncle.”  
  
"Those are some pretty nice gifts you got there. Just from a stranger? Think she'll be a regular? Be careful, you know things are still hectic. Just being cautious," Sam grinned at him, "Uncle, though? That's cute."  
  
"I never noticed it before, but she has a bunch of scars on her arms, but they don't look inflicted by her." Steve leaned back and he looked at the presents and blinked when he saw one of them said _Angelina_  in pretty script, and the second one said _James_. James. Bucky?  
  
"You said she was a foreigner. Probably a rough start. If she's here, though, she should be good." Sam nodded, then waved his hand to Zan when he saw her, "I'll get you that free coffee, Steve. Open them! What did you get?!"  
  
He decided to save James' present till after he had his coffee and went to Angelina's. Her's was thin, long and flat. He carefully peeled the wrapping paper off of the present and blinked when he saw that she had given him water color pencils. Water color. He hadn't worked in paints for a while, but he did sketch a lot. Who...he eyed the present he was saving. Bucky must have told her that he used to paint...  
  
But then...did that mean that Angelina was the one who helped in the England's massacre? Why would she approach him if that was the case? Uncle Steve was starting to have a heavier meaning, but he didn't want to jump to conclusions yet. Not yet.  
  
"Jeez Steve can you be more complicated with your expressions?" Zan asked teasingly yet with a hint of concern as she placed the warm drink in front of him. The latte art was gorgeous, it was in a shape of a candle which was just brilliantly done and it made Steve smile warmly. "Happy Birthday, Steve! May you have the greatest day ever."  
  
The present James had got him was a slightly used set of Winsor and Newton watercolor paints in a box on top of a pad of watercolor paper. The outside of card that had been tucked in a white envelope was rather hilarious to Sam. There was merchandiser of Steve everywhere right now, and this card wasn't anything overly fancy, just _covered_  in glitter and a bold shape of his shield. The red, blue, and white sparkles got all over the birthday boy which cracked Sam and Zan up. There was a white folded piece of thick watercolor paper but bold letters said 'not yet card first'.  
  
Steve pursed his lips together, not really knowing what to think or what to say. He thought the shield thing was kind of funny. It /was/ something Bucky would find amusing when it was covered in glitter. He'd probably shake out some of the glitter from the envelope and dump it over his head. He took a breath, and picked up the card.  
  
**_Steve._**  
  
_I hope you are looking at this letter first before the folded paper._  
  
_I swear to a God I don't believe in, Steve. This is supposed to make you happy. You're supposed to be happy on your goddamn birthday, not moping around. I didn't even let a nightmare stop me from going to the library and moving around. Pick up your lady purse and get over yourself._  
  
_I don't know why that line made me smile when I wrote it but really._  
  
_We're both in our 90s on a damn technicality. Stop acting like you should be in a rocky chair on a porch yelling at kids to get off your lawn._  
  
_I've improved a lot since that day. I found what I was searching for. A person. Special to me in equal amount to you. I don't know if we'll ever be okay, but we have good days. Things still confuse me, us. I'm keeping a journal to write down things I remember. I'm alive. That's what counts. You're alive, too._  
  
_Now look at the adorable picture I made you and that she colored since you like art and I better see this masterpiece on display somewhere when I make contact with you._  
  
**_James._**  
  
"Oh my god." Steve burst into laughter and tears and he wasn't sure which one he was really feeling at the moment. He was happy and sad and it was a strange mix. Angelina. Angelina was his special person. It would explain, so....so _much_. "Bucky got me the card...and he has a friend. That's awesome. That's...better than I could ask for really."  
  
When Steve was given permission to open the picture, it was of Bucky from the museum, Steve, and black haired girl between them in very child-like cartoony poses but looking happy. It was colored with watercolor paints from the box.  
  
Steve grinned as he looked at the potrait and set it in the middle. He wondered about the black-haired girl who was in the middle of them, striking such a strange but hysterical pose. But at the same time, he had a feeling he knew that person. He had a feeling he knew exactly what Bucky was getting at. Whoever the black haired girl was, that was the someone who was important to him. Which meant, maybe it wasn't Angelina after all. Maybe Bucky just...asked her to do him a favor. Or something. "Well, I can say my day's been made."


	8. Don't Hack Mission Assists

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angel does an oops

Starbucks was great and all, but sometimes a simple coffee was all one wanted. After spending the last week _properly_  observing and doing his "mission protect" detail, James deduced that he really wanted to try the coffee shop Steve frequented after his and flying Sam's runs. Today he went in while the two were busy trying to best each other at doing the entire expanse of Central Park. Gave him time to observe the surroundings and find himself a nice quiet booth to claim as his own that was far enough from Roger's usual seat but close enough to listen. For now until they walked in, he faced the crowd.  
  
As much as he wanted to just give people creepy stares through his sunglasses all day, he had gotten a pre-paid Track Phone and it was coming in handy as he searched for apartments. He was tempted to borrow Angelina's laptop, but she'd gotten hyper attached to it. Which is why he spent the extra money and got the smartphone that was only about a hundred dollars. He had his notepad to write down addresses and phone numbers while he browsed so he wouldn't have to go back and forth, too.  
  
Zan noticed instantly where the guy was sitting at, and she felt a little suspicious, because she didn't usually let people sit close by where Steve and Sam would sit when they were due to be around. She valued her reputation of being the person who could keep things private and let people feel privacy, but...at the same time she didn't think it was right for her to just go up to him and say "get the fuck off of the chair". Something about him was...like Steve. Like Sam. A vet probably, who needed the same valued privacy. Sam or Steve might've suggested her. Taking a breath, she walked over to him and smiled. "Hey there. What can I get you started with?"  
  
"Starbucks is too fancy for me today. Can ya get me just good ol' fashion coffee with a bit'a sugar?" James flashed her a charming smile, his Brooklyn accent making an appearance.  
  
Zan's lips quirked up, "One coffee with some sugar." She smiled as she reached down and knocked on the table twice before leaving. Well. She hadn't expected the smile...that made her heart race a little.  
  
She was a cute little thing. Young, like his daughter. Maybe a bit older. He went back to his phone and more apartment searching, even made two phonecalls before she came back. He grumped a huff ass he crossed out the places. "I don't suppose a bright young woman like yourself would know of any good apartments? Or are you stuck in a dorm room?" She _did_  seem like she would be right for college.  
  
Zan blinked as she placed the cup down along with a small caddy of sugar cubes so he could sweeten it to his preference. She kept the tray on her hip and cocked it a bit as she thought about it. "I am in college, but I live with my brother in an apartment building. You know, now that you mentioned it, our neighbors are moving out from the room just down the hall from us...you might be able to get a place there."  
  
"Do you think you could get that information for me?" James asked, sounding properly exasperated. "I've been trying really hard to find a place for myself and my daughter. She might be a little younger than you...eighteen?"  
  
"Cool I'm twenty two." Zan beamed before frowning. "Where are you guys staying right now? Please tell me you're not in the street."  
  
"Uh...no?" Not _technically_? What was the correct answer to this query? "We're alright. Proper hygiene and the like. Plenty of water and food with the given weather." He handed her his phone to type in the search bar for the location of the apartment, "The sooner we can get this apartment, the better, however. While you do that, let me try this coffee." Yes. Divert attention. He picked the cup up, took the smallest sip of the pure black coffee, put only three cubes in, stirred, and tried again. "Could've only used two. This is really good coffee. Might be good with creamer next time..." he mumbled to himself.  
  
"Next cup I'll bring you some. We have a bunch of different kinds." Zan said, but she wasn't so easily fooled. She knew that he said that he was struggling. "I'll tell you what. I'm calling my apartment lease manager the minute I get back to the kitchen. I'll ask them when they're kicking my neighbors out and I'll forward them to you, so you'll have to give me your cell number. You'll have me as a recommendation _and_  a reference. That'll count for a bunch of things. You cool with that?"  
  
"I...are you sure?" James blinked up at her over his sunglasses and under his hat. Would she really be so kind? He knew Steve liked her. This was unexpected, however. "Thank...you...Thank you very much. Yes...here." He wrote on a separate note page what his number was and forced himself to put James Barnes for his name. It felt so odd, but he gave it to her.  
  
"Pretty cool that you're named after Steve Roger's friend." Zan mentioned casually as she took the piece of paper. "I'll be right back." She knocked on the table as she left, humming as she casually messed with her tray and checked in on others who needed her before she dealt with the management.  
  
Unfortunately, James saw the shadow of Steve and Sam talking and laughing before they came inside, getting up from his comfortable seat he'd warmed to move to the spot across from it which was cold. Ugh, he almost didn't pay attention. Well, at least now he could see how their normal coffee stop turned out.  
  
"Oh, man! That was a hell of a go today. I think all those people are preparing for a donation run. I  really wished I had your speed today, Steve," Sam wiped his brow.  
  
"I was wondering about that, it was crazy out there." Steve laughed as he walked over to the usual seat, he noticed that there was someone sitting in Zan's section, which was a bit strange, but he shrugged it off. Even if they valued their privacy, Zan was overly protective of all veterans. The guy probably was one and needed some Zan therapy. At least, that's what Sam called it. "It'd be nice. It was kind of a shame that Angelina wasn't there. I would've really liked to have introduced you. I hope she's feeling alright."  
  
STEVE. So caring about the girl he's only met twice! Why do you do this? He really wanted to just say 'she's fine' but that would ruin everything. Damn it, Steve.  
  
"I have a strong feeling that if something was up she would know where to find you, dude," Sam shook his head fondly.  
  
Thank you, Flying Sam, for apparently reading minds as well.  
  
"Hey, so I called my apartment manager," Zan beamed as she walked past Sam and Steve for now to address James with a bright smile. "Turns out the neighbors get kicked out in a week. They're gonna give you a call probably sometime in the afternoon to talk to you. So, I hope it's not premature of me, but I'm pretty freaking certain you'll have an apartment soon for you and your kid. I also bring you a dish of all sorts of flavored creamer, just to prepare for that next cup."  
  
Shit. Shit. Shit. If he talked now Steve would recognize his voice. He smiled thinly at Zan and nodded, taking a sip of his coffee. What was he supposed to do?  
  
"Hey, Zan? Any specials today? I think we need something special with an extra kick after that swarm."  
  
How can Flying Sam be mission assist without realizing it?  
  
Zan grinned as she knocked on Bucky's table and walked over to Sam and Steve. "I could whip you up something that's special with a kick. You guys probably want something cold? Or are you going to continue to sweat it out with something hot?"  
  
"Oooh, I dunno Steve. Feelin' dangerous with a hot drink on a hot day?" Sam asked his blond buddy.  
  
"If you want to die from heat exhaustion, I'm not gonna stop you." Steve quipped back with a smile, looking at Zan. "Cold for me, because I'm sensible this time around."  
  
"This time, he says." Zan muttered.  
  
Sam could only laugh, and James nodded to himself, pleased that Steve actually had his head on his shoulders today. He decided to say 'screw it' and added one of the creamer packets to his current coffee, just to try it. He was okay being quiet...he did have his notebook, if he really wanted to say something to Zan. Hopefully everything would work out with this apartment.  
  
"What about you?" Steve looked at Sam curiously, "Going to play dangerous and get something hot?"  
  
"Nah, I'll follow your lead. I was just seeing if you'd take the bait." Sam grinned, "Surprise me with something you think I'll like, Zan. I did want something special."  
  
"Two cold specials coming up," Zan grinned as she knocked on their table and whistled as she twirled her tray around.  
  
Just _why_  did she do that? Something James would have to ask about when he was able to get the chance. He really did want to get to know this lovely girl better. Maybe Angelina would like her? He hoped so. They were going to be neighbors in the near future, after all. James watched her disappear, and the feeling he identified was fondness and maybe a bit of longing déjà vu from a past long since destroyed. Waitresses from that time were hard working and kind, just like Zan. He didn't have to question that one.  
  
"I'm still shocked that Tony hasn't snatched her up yet," Steve said as he looked back at Sam with a smile. "Then again, I think he's more afraid of her tray than he is of my shield and their nearly the same weapon."  
  
"It's the person behind it." Sam smirked at Steve, "He has a weakness for women, you know that. Zan's vicious when she wants to be."  
  
"True." Steve agreed. "But still, the press fears her just as much as they fear Natasha. I'm trying to get at least Nat to come down here, but she thinks that if all of the Avengers start coming, what little power Zan has will just..." He did something with fingers to demonstrate the magic ability of it going away. "Speaking of the Avengers and Tony...did you know J.A.R.V.I.S got hacked?"  
  
"You're shitting me." Sam stared at Steve like he'd lost his head. "Not _hacked_  hacked, surely?"  
  
"Not completely," Steve shook his head from side to side. "J.A.R.V.I.S is a little too smart for it, but...Tony wasn't pleased. Apparently someone was testing boundaries and security. He thinks that they're planning on a true hack. They poked in _real_  specific areas, according to him. But they don't know what the person was doing. If it was just a security test, it would be from Tony's IT and Tony would know about it."  
  
"Well _yeah_ , of course," Sam was horrified. "Damn. I'm sure Tony's working on it right now to prevent it, too. I bet he was sure no one would be dumb enough to try. That's terrifying, man."  
  
There was one person James could think of that had an increased interest in Avengers personal things. Only one person smart enough and _trained_  to hack into J.A.R.V.I.S.  
  
He was going to have a talking-to with his daughter when he got home.

* * *

"Anzhelina Barnes."  
  
Angelina had been looking something up on the laptop when she heard her tată say her full name. She froze, like a deer in headlights and her breathing increased. Very rarely did she ever get into trouble with her dad, but...it sounded like she was in deep boiling water for some reason. She looked over at him, and pursed her lips together. "What did I do?"  
  
"Uncle Steve mentioned someone was trying to hack into building J.A.R.V.I.S." James came closer to her bed, setting down the bag with today's lunch and dinner in it, and he put his hands on his hips. Was this what being a father felt like? He didn't like reprimanding her. She just didn't know what she did. He stood firm, though. "Did you do that?"  
  
Angelina frowned, "Yeah. It's part of the surveillance." She explained. "Avengers are apart of S.H.I.E.L.D but not apart of S.H.I.E.L.D. They don't share the same information, and aren't and are the same group. S.H.I.E.L.D went boom, but not really. I could've hacked S.H.I.E.L.D I guess...but I think the Avengers, more like the J.A.R.V.I.S interface I connected with for a brief time has more information about things. Especially about Uncle Steve and security detail."  
  
"Building J.A.R.V.I.S.  _is_  security detail. Mission Protect is something J.A.R.V.I.S. does for all of them. He is mission assist." James pressed his lips together briefly, "Do you understand that if Stark wanted to, he could ask J.A.R.V.I.S. where the hack came from, and our location would be compromised?"  
  
Angelina blinked slowly. "So I could've just asked the interface for information? Is the interface that intelligent? Our location isn't compromised yet. I didn't use the Hotel WiFi and I.P address. I did used a proxy and I went through someone else's WIFI. Not clear on who though."  
  
"So you put someone _else_  in danger?" James frowned even deeper, "Yes, you could have asked J.A.R.V.I.S. for information outright. In fact, if you want it that badly, you are...technically free to go wherever you wish. You could _go_  to the Avenger Tower. You would only...have to go without me."  
  
Angelina didn't understand any of this. Why was putting someone else at risk such a bad thing? She didn't kill them and she was pretty certain neither would the Avengers. They weren't killers. She supposed she could've asked the building for information. But that still meant using a computer. Going to the actual building? That wasn't the greatest idea in the world. Who knew what they knew and who might be waiting. As for going on without him. She bowed her head and she pursed her lips together. Expressing her thoughts on that, was harder than it looked.  
  
"I don't get it." Angelina finally sighed after a moment, flopping backwards on the bed. "You're making my brain hurt."  
  
James smiled faintly, "I know, _fetiță_. It's fine. Just...it's hard to do things the right way, when you don't know what the right way is or when other things prevent that. I was able to put in the application for an apartment, but we have to wait for the background check. I have many aliases to allow it to go through, but it still..." he didn't like it at all. He wanted to put his own name down, but there _wasn't_  anything for that name except someone who was supposed to be long since buried. "Please...I'll let it go, but don't hack anyone anymore or put others in danger. If you want information, seek it out another way."  
  
Angelina frowned deeply and she stared up at the ceiling. She...found that it was hard to say _yes_  to that. Her father didn't want her to hack anymore, and she wondered about that. If she was taken out of prison not to fight, but be on a mission to protect, but protecting meant not being on the same page as the enemy, when what the hell was she up against? What exactly was the Solider's plan right now? What was she here for exactly? "Do I still keep my laptop?"  
  
James was a bit startled by that. "Yes...you can still keep your laptop. I'm not going to take it from you after just giving it to you. You're still learning the ropes and things." He nodded to himself, "I brought lunch...so how about we eat?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, there was supposed to be /more/ to this chapter, but I really just wanted to leave it at this. Next week, we get a surprise visit.


	9. Good Guy Nonlethal

It happened quickly. She didn't even expect him. Only 0100. Most were asleep, yet she was glued to her laptop. Identified: disappointment. Wasn't she supposed to be better than this?  
  
Yet who was she? She jumped when everything caught up with her and she felt his presence in the far corner staring at her. She must have realized his stare was blank. His mind was also blank. Pictures were bouncing around, flashing in front of his eyes. They were more prominent than words. Yet she couldn't read pictures.  
  
Confirm. Ah. That clicked something into place. Mind reader. Young. Only 18 years of age. It was becoming clearer and clearer as more pictures were thrown at him from his choppy memory bank.  
  
"Companion." He finally said and it was fascinating watching her face contort and shift.  
  
"Soldier," Angelina greeted, tilting her head a little. Now _this_  she was used to. Though it was a little frightening. Didn't her father tell her good guy nonlethal? But the Soldier came out. "< **What are you doing up? New mission?** >"  
  
"Uncertain. Negative." He answered in order. "Where are we? What is current mission?" It was _wrong_. Everything was...off. Location. Clothing. Companion looked so casual, even in spite of his stiffness.  
  
" < **We're in New York.** >" Angelina explained, "< **Near Harlem. Good guy, nonlethal perimeters. Protect: Steve Rogers also known as Captain America. Can't be seen by Hydra or by S.H.I.E.L.D. I was denied hacking into the Avenger's building. But I established contact with Steve Rogers. He doesn't know me. Though we did throw a big hint in his face. Oh and no handlers to report to.** >"  
  
Soldier stared at her long and hard. That was a long winded explanation. His brain slowly broke it down. No handlers. Nonlethal. Mission Protect. Steve Rogers.  
  
CONFIRM. CONFIRM. CONFIRM.  
  
The words blared in his face and made him stiffen up even further and back up hard into the wall behind him, his hand going to his head. Motherfucker.  
  
PROTECT. MISSION. ROGERS. STEVE. CONFIRM.  
  
Hell! Alright! Affirm for crying out loud!  
  
It was still blaring after he acknowledged it, but it retreated to the background of his mind, allowing him to blink and come back forward. Even Anzhelina (that was her name?) blinked slowly at him with a slightly raised eyebrow. Where was she learning these human actions? It would be funny if it wasn't directed at him.  
  
Confirm. Ugh. Okay. "< **Need to find Rogers. Orders: Stay. Must go alone. Cannot explain why. Don't remember denial of hacking, but must be good reason.** >" He waved his hand at her, "Back to what you were doing." Slipping on an outfit from the dufflebag he thankfully remembered out of this whole mess, he spotted the hat and also put that on, taking the hotel keys (hotel?) and leaving.  
  
"YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE ON MY SIDE!" Angelina yelled after him, not really caring if it woke up the next door neighbors. She probably should have told him what that "good reason" was. She was pretty certain the Soldier would be on her side then.

* * *

Insomnia really sucked. Ever since he woke up, sleep had been hard to come by and it wasn't just the nightmares and the guilt. His body didn't need much to keep his energy up, and he supposed that if anyone's body was asleep for seventy years, going _back_  to sleep was probably not on anyone's list. He decided that, instead of going down to the gym and trying to beat down Tony's reinforced punching bags, a long walk might work. Sure he'd just have to run during the morning light, but he was hoping for at least a three hour nap after this. Maybe even a four if sleep stayed sleep and not a bout of bad dreams.  
  
The city was really pretty and oddly enough quiet during these hours. The lights dazzled looking like stars, and cars whizzed by without too much traffic. There were still people out and about, but few and far between. If he really wanted to imagine it, he could imagine that he was the only one in the city. It made him think of the birthday card Bucky sent him. About the museum that he went to and the little girl with black hair.  
  
Where were they? Who was the girl in black hair and who exactly was Angelina because he was starting to wonder. Just wonder. He felt something behind him and he tensed. He looked behind him, but he didn't see anyone there. Not a person, not even a silhouette. But the feeling that he was being followed didn't cease and it was starting to irk him. He should've brought his shield. Natasha would tell him not to run, to walk. But where should he walk to. What was a good place to go?  
  
Don't go down any alleyways, pal.  
  
Goddamn it, Steve. Just what the hell do you think you're doing? You shouldn't be out this late at night anyway. Muggers and robbers and prostitutes and druggies. He hadn't met Building J.A.R.V.I.S. but maybe, just maybe this late he could get close enough? If it was really that sentient then maybe he could get him to tell this blond oaf to _stay inside_?  
  
Steve. Steve stop picking up your pace. Why are you moving further away from the Tower? You should be rounding back.  
  
STEVE.  
  
"You do realize that I know you're following me, right?" Steve finally had enough and turned around, looking at the well lit path, but looking more at the shadows in between buildings and trying to see if he could catch a glimpse of them, whoever them was.  
  
"You do realize you make me want to bang my head against this brick wall, right?" came the sarcastic echo.  
  
"Bucky?" He recognized that voice. He _knew_  that voice! He started walking briskly towards it. "Bucky, what the hell?"  
  
Nice try, pal. I won't let you see me until I want you to see me. Yay being a Ghost.  
  
As much as that was a joke, it put such a bad taste in his mouth and his nose wrinkled. "That is a query I've had this whole time. Why are you out here?"  
  
"I couldn't sleep." Steve explained, still trying to figure out where he was coming from and where he was at. He needed to tell Bucky this. "Look, listen. I know you pulled me from the river. I read your file. I can offer you a place to stay that's safe and secure. Especially from S.H.I.E.L.D."  
  
A gasp and a thump echoed through the night. Soldier was pressed against the wall and had his hand on his mouth, trying very hard all of a sudden not to vomit everywhere.  
  
He read the file.  
  
Confirm.  
  
Mission Protect. Can't very well protect him if he likes to torture himself by reading that filth. On him. About them. What they did to him.  
  
Deep breaths.  
  
When he was able to peel his tongue from the roof of his now dry mouth, he answered Steve just as he was starting to make those defeated noises from too much silence. "That file should be burned." The words came out in a deep growl.  
  
"I think that it could help you get the people you need on your side." Steve denied. "That being said, there's hardly anything about the girl who was with you in the England Massacre."  
  
"Companion. What about her?" Soldier jumped on the defensive. He stepped from the shadows, his pale blue eyes flashing warning, teeth gritted, "What makes you think you can protect us? Mission Protect. That's our job."  
  
"I think it goes both ways." Steve said with a frown, god Bucky looked worse for wear. The beard looked way too at home and out of place on him and his eyes looked like they were tortured. He remembered seeing those eyes before. "S.H.I.E.L.D's looking for her too. Well...they don't know what they're looking for really. They have literally nothing on her. Just a few photos and that's all blurry besides the one where she's holding a head and I'm _dead_  certain that they kept the more gory ones."  
  
"Trained to keep out of sight. You'll never see her face on a camera." Soldier kept his body poised, "Companion is the person I went back for. Remember telling you that I was leaving. Don't remember yesterday. Uncertain what the last thing I remember is. Only knew had to come find you." Make sure you were still in one piece. Make sure you were okay.  
  
"I don't know about yesterday Buck, I wasn't there." Steve felt his throat constrict. "I thought you were going to come back. I mean, I knew you were going to come back, but I was hoping with more..." He gestured helplessly and had to smile sadly at the confused look he was being given. "Will you come back to the Tower? With me? We can grab your Companion...everything will be fine. Just...come back home?"  
  
Soldier blanched. Something deep inside his mind that was trying to wake up was sending warning signals.  
  
DENY. DENY.  
  
"Not my call, pal." Soldier answered slowly. The words were strange on his tongue. Were they right? "Everything about tonight. Not right. Shouldn't...even be making contact. Words. Mission Protect. Want to trust you, but it is all so _wrong_ , Rogers." He backed up and watched Steve take a step forward, "Building J.A.R.V.I.S... Companion tried to hack it. Not hostile. Just...wants information. Protection detail. For you."  
  
Steve blinked, "Buck...wait, don't do anything. You're okay. You're okay. You look like you're about to fly off the handle. Look, I can't say anything about the Companion and J.A.R.V.I.S because honestly I don't know her. Just that she's apart of your team. I'm a bit concerned that she hacked in...but...according to Tony she didn't get very far. So long as she doesn't do it again..."  
  
"Told me I denied her. Don't remember. Unng..." Soldier gripped his head, hissing, "I reaffirmed it. Don't know...No. Not okay. Not ready. Not right. Not...not safe..." His other hand came up, the metal flashing. He hadn't worn his jacket to hide, intending to stay out of sight. Damn it, Steve!  
  
"Easy, easy." Steve took a few steps closer, but then realized that was the wrong thing to do. "Bucky shh. It's okay. It's okay. You're in New York city, you're with me, and you're safe."  
  
"NO!" It was a blur, but then Steve was pressed against the wall, flesh arm pressed up against his neck, his metal one whirring and clacking as the plates shifted. "WHY DO YOU MAKE EVERYTHING SO FUCKING DIFFICULT?!" He punched the wall beside Steve's head, his whole head whiting out and his mouth running without a filter. At least he was speaking _English_. "YOU CAN'T KEEP ME SAFE. YOU CAN'T KEEP _HER_  SAFE BECAUSE _I'M_  NOT SAFE, ROGERS." Then his voice probably gave Steve whiplash as the shouting switched and dropped down real low, "I could kill you right now. But I won't. I can't. You. Are. My _mission_. I'm protecting you from _me_."  
  
Then Soldier let Steve collapse to the ground in a pile and disappeared again.

* * *

James groaned loud, rolling and shifting, feeling blankets tangled around his feet. "My head feels like someone stuck an ax in it." Did he dream? He felt like he didn't dream, so why did he have this god awful feeling in the pit of his stomach as if he had a nightmare?  
  
" _Tată_?" Angelina approached the bed with a bit of relief. She had slept through him coming home, though she did lock the doors and she did wake up a bit when she heard him bust through and was muttering to himself, but he went to sleep nice and easy...which was saying something. "Glad to see you home."  
  
"That doesn't make sense..." James rubbed his face. Everything was too bright and the light was just barely coming through the curtains for 6:30. "Glad to see me home?"  
  
"Soldier went looking for Steve." Angelina pursed her lips together. "I don't know why. You told me to stay here. So I stayed. You weren't happy though. You were arguing really loudly with him."  
  
The feeling in his stomach became much worse and James sat upright quickly, "I went out looking for Steve as the _Soldier_?" He felt like he was going to be sick. "Angel...Angel we have to go to the park. I don't remember what happened. I remember dark with the city lights, but it's all a blur. I think I did something bad. You can talk to him."  
  
Angelina blinked slowly, "There wasn't any blood." She told him after a moment. "But I'll change and find Steve for you. I bet he's running with..." She frowned. "The guy who flies."  
  
"Sam. Flying Sam, yes..." James stumbled out of te bed and they both got changed into their running gear. What did he do?

* * *

 

As it turned out, finding Steve wasn’t hard at all. He looked like he’s been hitting the pavement for quite sometime. His shoulders were pulled back and he had an intense gaze that went perfectly with his thoughts about what happened last night. She couldn’t read the memories, the pictures she didn’t understand nor could grasp. But she could tell that he felt strongly about it…every time the pictures popped up, he would run a little faster.  
  
If Flying Sam was running with him, he had bit the dust a long time ago. He was more than likely going to be sitting underneath a tree right now, or…something like that. She waited for a moment, and then got in pace with him.  
  
“You’re gonna have a heart attack and die.” She greeted him, making him glance over at her.  
  
“Hey Angelina.” He said, his voice hoarse and raspy from the running. Now that she was up close to him, she realized that he must have been running for…well…hours. A bunch of hours. He was sweating and he wasn’t looking too good. “Thanks for my birthday present, I didn’t get to see you last time.”  
  
“You’re welcome. Bad days happen.” Angelina sighed, “It was a bad day. I don’t know if today’s a good one or not. I think it depends.” She looked at him worriedly. “But I don’t want your day to be bad.”  
  
“I…don’t even know how to talk about it.” Steve admitted after a moment. “I…don’t take this the wrong way Angelina, but…after meeting you things have been both good and weird.”  
  
“…” Angelina didn’t have it in her heart to tell him that technically he was the third person that she “met”. “Well…at least I did some good.”  
  
“Yeah. I got to meet Bucky last night. He…was still confused. The programming that Hydra did…” He pursed his lips together but Angelina got the gist of it.  
  
The Soldier visited him last night.  
  
The Soldier yelled at him that he couldn’t even protect her, let alone him because he was trying to keep Steve safe from himself.  
  
He threw a punch to the wall.  
  
Those thoughts were crystal clear to her.  
  
Steve blinked when Angelina forced them to a stop, her breathing harsh since damn he went fast. “You should go to the coffee shop.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Talk to someone. A friend. Running partner.” Angelina looked at him sadly. “You’re running yourself to the ground. Literally.” She let him go and she stepped back. “I’ll come by tomorrow. We’ll have a proper run. I promise. I have to go. Byes.” She waved and headed off, running with her long white hair flying behind her.  
  
Steve had to wonder if there was an entire conversation that he missed somewhere in between the lines. He also had to wonder if Angelina knew something that he…didn’t.  
  
Meanwhile, Angelina went back to find her dad, wherever he decided to hide. She had to organize her thoughts properly. He was going to demand a mission report. She had to be as clean cut as she could. He was going to suffer, he nearly broke protection detail.  
  
Instead of being calm, James was shifting on his feet. He felt like he needed a run with how restless he felt, but didn't want to be seen. "You look determined. It's not good news. Steve doesn't look good, either." What did he do? How bad did he fuck up?  
  
"Well, he knows what you look like." Angelina said slowly. "You threw a punch at him and hit the wall. You told him that he's not safety. Because you're not safe. He can't protect us, because you're trying to protect him from you."  
  
"I...did...what?" It was rhetorical, and James' hands came up and gripped his head, "Oh no." Identity compromised. Mission Protect. He was supposed to protect Steve, not harm him. Punching at a wall wasn't the best for that. What else did he do? He did something else. He couldn't remember what. Couldn't protect him and Angel? Steve must have tried to offer. Why did he say no? Had that been the only reason? Was he really that dangerous that he could slip into the Soldier in his _fucking sleep_  and _fuck everything up_? Steve must have let his guard down. That was the only way. He must have only punched the wall with his metal hand, too, if there hadn't been any blood or pain when he woke up.  
  
James put his back against a tree and his breathing was a lot more labored. He'd told Steve he was protecting him from himself. That had to be true, if he'd done that without knowing about it. A form of sleep walking? What if he did it again? "Is he...is he still there?"  
  
"I told him to go to a coffee shop. Find a friend." Angelina pursed her lips together.  
  
"Will you...can we..." Words, damn it. "Need him to explain. More detail. Go to the coffee shop with him?"  
  
Angelina took a breath in and let it out slowly. "I'll have to tell him about my reading. About my ability. I can...I can go into the coffee shop and explain. But only if you want me to."  
  
"Maybe you won't have to? I can...go in with you. I have a spot. I told you about it, remember? You can meet Zan...I'll have to talk to you in our tongue, but you can get Uncle Steve to talk to you...Sam might be there, too." James wasn't entirely sure how her telling him about her powers would work. "If...it comes down to it, then alright. Let's see what we can do without, though."  
  
"Then coffee shop. Let's try." Angelina smiled holding her hand out. "Today's a good day for people."

* * *

It was a mess. Steve looked like he had decided that marathoning was the best idea ever, and then her new neighbor/costumer was looking down in the dumps too. There was a girl with white hair that had hovered between the two before going over to Steve and Sam's spot. She had half of the mind to tell her to leave them alone, that fangirls weren't allowed, but...James was watching her. She couldn't really see through the sunglasses, but...she could tell that that he was watching her. In the same way a father might watch a child go off to find friends.  
  
Regardless, they both looked like they needed coffee, a shower, and a three days worth of sleep. Coffee and rest she could provide, but the shower was going to have to be their own thing.  
  
"So who's this? You don't look like you mind we have a new friend." Sam commented as he watched Angelina sit down tentatively and Steve was torn between interested and giving two shits.  
  
"Angelina?" Steve blinked, "I thought you ran away?" He paused and then turned to Sam. "This is Angelina. She's the one that can keep up with me during our runs. Angelina this is Sam, my running partner when he's willing to get mowed down."  
  
"It's nice to meet you Fly-I mean Sam." Angelina beamed. "I was worried about Steve. He was sad and angry through the run. I told him to come here and talk to a friend. But...I'm nosy by nature. I want to help."  
  
Sam narrowed his eyes at her slip, but held his hand out to her anyway, "I can get behind that, though he's only mentioned you a couple times. Just what exactly makes you think we can talk freely around you?"  
  
Well. James couldn't be mad at Flying Sam for asking the hard question and being suspicious. It's what he would do. So he looked over his shoulder and watched his daughter to see what she would say, though didn't give her any yes or no definitive answers in his mind.  
  
"You know Bucky." Steve looked at her and she looked a little panicked. "You bought me the water colored pencils a long with James' present. But, it was actually Bucky's present."  
  
Angelina nodded. "Very much so. He stays with me. Foreigners. We like to stick together in small groups. Not everyone understands our mother tongue and he slips in it sometimes." She knew that these two were looking for the Companion, but the less she said about herself the better. The only thing that she couldn't hide was who he normally contacted. If she could be the go-between it'd be a lot better though...she glanced over at Steve, that depended on him really.  
  
"Alright, so you know his missing buddy. That's something. So you can technically take messages back and forth for Steve here, couldn't you? God knows he's dying to actually talk to the guy." Sam shook his head.  
  
Angelina tilted her head and looked at Sam. Well, now she knew why her dad was always curious to know how he was able to mission-assist without really knowing that he was mission-assisting. Though would that cause a problem? "I can." She nodded and she looked at Steve. "He came home and was scared. He doesn't know what the Soldier did. He's certain that he did something terrible."  
  
"Wait what? You met up with him?" Sam stared at Steve, "I hope for both your sakes he's keeping well out of sight. Nick's hell-bent on finding him."  
  
"Whose Nick?" This was why she wanted to hack into J.A.R.V.I.S. She couldn't wait to say the words "I told you so" to him. She paused, maybe the internet was bad for her. That could get her killed.  
  
"Nick Fury, he used to be the director of S.H.I.E.L.D before it fell." Steve said slowly, softly so that none of the other costumers, save for Angelina could hear him. "He has strong beliefs about getting him behind bars. He doesn't know what to do with the person who started the massacre, you heard about that on the news right?"  
  
Follow the lead, Angelina nodded. "I heard. It was terrifying. So Fury wants my ta-friend." She corrected herself hastily. "How would he find him? No one knows what the Soldier looks like. Besides you. You crossed him twice. Lucky."  
  
"We're going to keep your secret." Steve turned to Sam and nodded. "I told Bucky that Tony offered him asylum if he can get to Avengers Tower without getting caught. He wasn't...all that happy. I offered it to his Companion as well. He threw a punch at the wall and told me that I can't keep him safe because he's not safe. I can't keep the Companion safe either for the very same reason."  
  
Well that was rude as hell. Angelina frowned deeply. She would have to ask the question later though. Of course that was when she heard it loud and clear. _I could kill you right now. But I won't. I can't. You. Are. My **mission**. I'm protecting you from **me**_. Ohhhh. That was the bad thing.  
  
"Jeez, Steve...it sounds like he may have come back to himself, but not completely. This guy is like a caged animal." Sam frowned deeply, "He's got a very broken mind, if Angelina said he didn't know what he did. That's a problem. If he joined us, he needs serious, major therapy."  
  
Sam wasn't wrong on anything. He really messed up, and _was_  messed up. He punched _at_  Steve. Put Mission Protect in jeopardy. He mentioned his Companion. Identity obviously compromised. He hadn't completely believed that he wasn't safe until now. His Soldier self apparently disagreed. He wanted...he wanted to take Steve's offer. Wanted Angel to be safe, too. Everything was so complicated and he was getting tired... There were taps on his table and he looked up to see Zan had arrived at his table.  
  
Zan blinked and she looked over at the white haired girl who was with Sam and Steve. She looked back at James and smiled, "Sure." She told him. "Do you want the same kind of tea?" She waited for his thumbs up or down gesture and while she did that, her fingers slipped on her tray and it clattered on to the grounds. "Oops. Sorry."  
  
James simply chuckled and bent down, his fingers brushing the metal of the tray and he was about to pick it up when it all went to hell in a handbasket.  
  
Steve had heard the tray clatter to the ground out of curiosity and to make sure that Zan was okay, he turned around. His eyes caught onto Bucky's and he felt his heart leap into his throat. His stomach twisted, he had another chance! He stood up swiftly, but he felt two hands grab at him. One on his shirt and the other on his wrist and he looked at his friends who were stopping him. "Guys...that's-"  
  
Angelina shook her head from side to side. "No." She said firmly. She could feel his brain get muddled with all sorts of thoughts. That she wasn't a good person, that he needed to go over to Bucky, that he had a second shot, and why were his friends trying to stop him. She wished she could speak as fast as he thought.  
  
"Dude, don't. Steve, it's not a good idea." Sam said shortly and all he had to do was nod. James had snatched up the tray and had 'disappeared', or otherwise slid deeper into the far corner of the booth he was sitting in. So Zan's most recent customer was Bucky? "He's a cornered animal. He'll either bite or he'll run."  
  
"Sam it's-" He had to break off when he glanced over at Angelina. "Angel?" He asked worriedly and she blinked at him before she could taste the blood against her lips. She immediately let go of Steve's shirt to cup her hands over her nose. Where...to go...where to go. So many thoughts and all of them were worried. She heard a door jingle and she quickly stood up, backing away and getting tangled in the chair's legs, falling backwards and crashing hard against the floor.  
  
"Zan you-holy shit, are you okay? Okay. No you're not. Here, I gotcha." 'This isn't an anime world. Of course she couldn't fall into you. You're an idiot.' A young boy that looked like a male version of Zan appeared in Angelina's vision, his sandy blond hair dangling in his brown eyes. He had a tissue in one hand, a lunchbox in the other, and he pressed the tissue to her face before he hooked his arm under her back, helping her sit up.  
  
Angelina wasn't sure what this feeling was. It felt like being really scared when the Soldier was angry at her and it felt really nervous, like when she was at the mall and everyone's thoughts were blaring. She wondered what anime was, and why on earth she would fall into him for...but he was nice to give her the tissue. She pressed it against her nose. "I'm fine." She said, her voice muffled. "It happens. I get overwhelmed. I'm Angelina."  
  
"Dylan Wicker. Zan's twin bro. C'mon, the bathroom's one-person only if you didn't know. Let's wait out this nosebleed and get you cleaned up." Dylan helped her stand and tossed the lunchbox he had in his hand towards Steve who was watching the scene, waved at his sister who was looking between everyone, and disappeared down the narrow hall towards the bathroom.  
  
"What just happened?" Steve asked after a moment of just watching nothing and looked at Zan who grabbed the lunchbox from Steve.  
  
"If I read my twin senses right, he thinks your friend is hot." Zan answered as she watched the two. "But I have to admit, that was the best way to diffuse the situation. Sit down Steve. You're not bothering my vet. I don't let them bother you so fair game dude."  
  
"Good on you, Zan. I agree with her." Sam's voice got much quieter and he leaned close, "You could've very well blown his cover. The Tower is too far away from here. I don't exactly want to have a chase."  
  
Steve frowned and bowed his head. Damn, Sam was right. It wouldn't be good and would Zan still protect him even if she knew? "You're right." He murmured and sat back down at the table. "Sorry for the trouble, Zan."  
  
"You're cool. You two want coffee? I think you both could use either that or tea if I'm honest." She told them causally.  
  
"Coffee with a kick and a bite," Sam nodded, rubbing his face, "Surprise me, girl."

* * *

 

Just before Zan could really walk by, James' hand shot out and grabbed her hand. He was aiming for the wrist, but at the last second calculated that might be too rough and he could hurt her. As it was, he hoped he wasn't crushing her fingers. When she looked over at him, hunched down over the table, hat low, his eyes were barely visible from his glasses, but he hoped she could see the pleading. Since silence was a moot point now, he swallowed thickly, "Don't...leave. Wait, please?" For her brother and Angel. He hated that words didn't cooperate with him when he needed them the most.  
  
Zan felt her heart break and she looked at Sam and Steve. Steve's shoulders were hunched in, he undoubtedly heard his plea and was unable to do anything. She nodded and she stepped back a few paces and she pointed at the seat across from him. "Will you feel better if I sit there, or do you need me to stand?"  
  
"Sitting is fine...impomptu break. Sorry." He gave her a strained smile and was surprised when she continued to hold his hand as she slid into the booth with him. "I don't..." he nodded at their joined fingers, "...anyone but Angel."  
  
This was an interesting turn of events. Of course, if Bucky had ran when he was discovered by Steve it would've created more of a riot. Thankfully, there had been no name drops in the chaos, just Steve's cut off sentences. Sam could tell that Steve was hanging on that man's every word. Sam just sat back, watching the hallway and watching for Dylan and Angel while Steve had his internal meltdown about what to do.  
  
"Angel..." Zan smiled softly as it clicked. "She's your daughter isn't she?" She squeezed his hand reassuringly, but made sure that she kept her posture as relaxed as she could make it. She didn't want him to think that she was like Steve and was going to jump down his throat for every little thing.  
  
James watched her for a bit. Calculating. Thinking real hard about it. Then he sighed deeply and took his sunglasses off with his metal hand, rubbing his eyes. The thing about migraines when you were enhanced was instead of hitting you like a truck, it was just _there_. Sitting in the back of your head or wherever it decided to bloom and was an annoying little throb that wouldn't go away. "Yes...yes she is. She...doesn't have my hair because of all the stress she's been through. Hence her nose bleeds as well." Not to mention her mind reading, but that was beside the point.  
  
"Those scars." Zan could come to her own conclusion. "She seems happy to me." She looked behind her towards the restroom before looking at James. "Can I just say I'm really happy that whatever you two went through didn't take that away from her?"  
  
Steve gripped his hands tightly as he heard this. God, it hurt. It felt like his heart was being slowly pulled out of his chest, still beating. God. He knew that the Companion went through things. But to actually have it be concrete fact that the Companion was actually his daughter and those scars were from the torture that she endured...it made him sick.  
  
"Hey now...breathe with me, Steve." Sam murmured, "Don't want you to hurl while we're at the cafe. There will be plenty of time for a re-acquaintance with the bathroom later."  
  
Though, even as he said this, Dylan and Angelina came back down the hall. Angel looked pale from the loss of a lot of blood, but otherwise she seemed quite chipper, hanging close to Dylan with rapt attention. James looked up and let Zan's hand go when he saw her, letting her read his mind freely when she looked his way, that way she was caught up on what he'd revealed.  
  
Angelina looked at her father, whose mind was ever flowing and present and Steve who was practically shattering at the edges and Sam who was trying to be the best friend and concerned counselor and she sighed. She looked at Dylan apologetically. "Bad day." She explained. "Come with me." She grabbed his wrist gently and pulled him towards her father. "I got this." She told Zan cheerfully. "You're okay."  
  
"Well, as long as you have it then." Zan said, sliding out of the booth and letting Angelina take her place, letting Dylan decide if he wanted to sit with them or not. She looked at her brother with a long suffering look, and she looked at James. "I'll be back with tea for the two of you and coffees for the two of them." She assured, knocking on the table as she walked away.  
  
Dylan easily slipped into the spot Zan had vacated, directly across from Angelina, "Bad day is an understatement, Angie. That must have been one of your worse ones. I'm not surprised, really? Steve and Sam's life is pretty hectic. Sam's new to the game, but he's stuck for life now. How do you know Steve, anyway?"  
  
"My _tată_ knew him for a long time," Angelina explained. "He's practically family so I call him Uncle Steve. I go running with him sometimes. But today wasn't a good day."  
  
Steve laid his head down on his arms, he didn't think he knew what to do with that kind of information right now.  
  
"That's right, baby girl...long time friends." James rubbed his daughter's back, leaning over and kissing her head sweetly. He felt a lot calmer now with her here. He heard Steve breathing heavy and Sam's words had dropped to a very low whisper. He hoped he wasn't crying. Today was just continuing to spiral down, wasn't it?  
  
"Drama here, drama everywhere. Like some big plot device." Dylan mumbled, "Never-mind me," he waved his hand when she gave him a confused look , "Just being sarcastic. Anyway... _tată_? What's that mean?"  
  
"Ah...It means father in Romanian. She's Russian-American." James explained carefully.  
  
"Russian-American? That's fascinating. Isn't it like, super bloody cold over there?" Dylan's eyes widened.  
  
"It's really cold. I remember the snow. I didn't get to play in it though. I don't think I have ever." Angelina happily melted at the back rub, leaning a bit forward so he could have more access. She looked at Dylan curiously. "Plot device, that reminds me. What's anime?"  
  
A really wide grin spread across his face, "It's a Japanese Cartoon style. There's a ton of different genres and types. I have my favorites. I wonder what you'd like. Do you have anything you could watch stuff on?"  
  
"I have a laptop." Angelina nodded, looking excited. She couldn't see the pictures, but there were a lot of Japanese names involved and a lot of them were long. "You can make me a list, I have nothing but time on my hands. Maybe you could watch some with me?" she looked up at her father curiously.  
  
"I could, yes," James nodded and started stroking her hair.  
  
"That sounds awesome." Dylan agreed with a wide grin, "It'll be a long list, but I can definitely make you one."  
  
"Here, I have a notepad." James reached into his pocket and slid it over to Dylan.  
  
It took several long moments and three pages worth since the notepad wasn't very big, but finally Dylan slid it over. He also leaned in and put his chin in his hand, elbow on the table. He didn't let Angelina take the notepad from him, his fingers firm on the spiral binding on the top, "I am curious. I never mentioned anime out loud."  
  
The air went still between the super soldiers.  
  
Oops. Angelina sat up a little as she took the list but didn't spare it a glance yet. He was staring at her, but he wasn't thinking anything bad. He didn't sound upset. He wasn't thinking upset. "I like the way you think?" She offered timidly.  
  
For some reason, that made Steve chuckle. So Angelina was a mind-reader. Hydra had to be running around with their heads cut off now that they didn't have one. Though, if she was one, Steve didn't doubt that they were probably going to create another.  
  
"That...you know what. I'll take that offhanded hint for what it is. Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me and once you watch some of those, you'll understand." Dylan beamed at her and let her have it. "If I remember anymore, I'll let Zan know. Or wait, weren't you guys going to be out neighbors?"  
  
Angelina _really_  perked up then. "Neighbors?! Really? So cool! I think we are." She looked at her father curiously. "We are, aren't we? Down the hall?"  
  
"Yes. Surprised that the background check went by so fast, and we...didn't have much so we moved in in one day." James agreed, "We need to get furniture...any stores you or your sister recommend that offer delivery?"  
  
Just as he asked the question, Zan came back and set down the tea for James and Angelina. She also slid a drink to her brother. "I know a few online stores that do furniture, but if you're looking for more of a shopping experience there's a few places I could write down for you that delivers. I also know a really decent mattress place as well so you guys don't have to sleep on the floor. They deliver too. Or..." She glanced behind her. "I could always ask Steve if he knows places. Casually drop a hint it's for a friend. I'm certain he has friends in high places willing to help you out."  
  
Steve never thought in his entire life, he would be grateful that Zan just knew how to manipulate the situation to work it out.  
  
James swallowed thickly. He didn't doubt for a milisecond Steve wouldn't agree to help him out any way shape or form. That was the problem. He was way too willing, and he was trying hard to do things on his own. If he said the word, Stark would have his entire apartment furnished by the end of the day tomorrow.  
  
Dylan watched as it was now James' turn to put his head in his arms and breathe heavy. "I'll repeat it for you. Bad day is bad. How about this, what's the unanimous vote? I vote ask dear Uncle Steve to get his friend to help his other friend out. Save you the trouble of another nosebleed..." he tapped is head for Angelina.  
  
"That boy has one hell of a point." Sam drawled casually, taking a nice slow draw of his coffee and shuddering as it delivered the kick he asked for. "Woo. Now that hits the spot."  
  
"You both needed it, otherwise you'd die on my table." Zan said, though the worried tone didn't match the quip. She looked between her two tables, wondering what the vote was going to be.  
  
Angelina gently tugged on her father's sleeve. "Uncle Steve." She said softly. "Best option. Worst option shopping. I can't go. Too tired now. Too dizzy. It wouldn't do you any good to go by yourself."  
  
So there it was. He could practically feel Steve from across the room about ready to jump up in his chair again. James motioned to the notepad, "The address is in there. Give him your phone number, too, Angel love. Have Uncle Steve call beforehand so I can leave."  
  
Angelina nodded her head excitedly and she wrote down her number twice. Once for Dylan, which she passed to him, and then wrote the one that was on the address. She slipped out of the booth happily and she walked over to her Uncle, tapping his shoulder. "I'm sorry for today." She said honestly, passing him the note. "I'm sorry for lying to you, too. Lots of apologies, but I don't think they'll do much. Still sorry."  
  
Steve looked up at her and he carefully took the note. He pursed his lips together, knowing that Bucky wanted his space. Knowing that he wanted to find himself. It was so fucking hard though, and it was even harder knowing. "I'll call you." Steve said hoarsely. "I'm sorry too Angelina. I...today was just a mess wasn't it?"  
  
"A mess." She agreed solemnly. "But good too. Exhausting. I could nap for days now."  
  
Undoubtedly, so could everyone at the tables. Steve smiled at her thinly. "Thanks, Angel."


	10. Ice Cream Cake Makes Everything Better

Another week went by. Angel had informed Steve that their lease was a six month one, and to give him at least that much time to come into his own. To be ready enough to be sure he wouldn't put Steve or anyone else in immediate danger with his slips. He'd gone into Soldier mode again just once this week, but Angel had kept him home and called Steve on her phone, just calling to chat and not giving anything away. Long enough for a decent conversation about nothing in particular, and long enough for him to realize Steve was safe and sound so he could go back to sleep.  
  
They'd each had two nightmares on top of it, but nothing too horrifying and worth mentioning. Disturbing enough to wreck their sleep for that night, but they were fine. Tonight, however, James knew something was different before he became self-aware. Angel had been acting slow and was in a bad mood all day for two days now, with a couple nose bleeds both those days which made her extra irritable. Now, he heard whimpering and he groaned, shifting and rolling over to face her bed. Their spare bedroom had been set up to be Bucky's, but they weren't ready to sleep in different rooms yet, so they used the spare cot _meant_  for guests instead. They also switched who slept in it, depending on how bad their nightmare were and if they needed something harder than the firm mattresses to simulate sleeping on the cold hard forest floors.  
  
Sitting up in the cot, James looked up to Angel's bed, " _Fetiță_? What's wrong, Angel?"  
  
She hurt, and it wasn't in a way where her nightmares had tensed all of the muscles in her body till she couldn't move. It wasn't the type of hurt someone could bandage either. Her abdomen felt full and tight, and her stomach was curled tightly like she could be sick but she wasn't. Something wet and sticky was on the inside of her thighs, but she just wasn't able to move. Her muscles wouldn't let her. Opening her eyes felt like a chore, too. She whimpered, feeling hot tears pool at her eyes but not falling yet. "I hurt and I'm scared. I know I'm bleeding."  
  
Bleeding? James felt his stomach twist, but there was nothing to be _really_  scared of. There hadn't been any fights. She was okay. Which meant it was that time. Getting to is feet, he got to her side, "Okay, sweetheart. Just hang tight. I'm gunna go start a bath for you. I'll be _right_  back." Leaning down he kissed her forehead and then disappeared. The sound of the tub was heard a minute later, and when he came back just like he promised, he got the covers off of her and scooped her up, "I didn't plug it. Let's get you cleaned up first, then you can soak for as long as it takes."  
  
She held on to him weakly as she was carried to the bathroom. The water gushed, sounding very much like a waterfall that she had heard a long time ago and seen on youtube. He sat her down on the toilet and she whimpered when she saw the blood on her thighs. It barely was soaking through her nightgown, but her underwear might as well be tossed. The water steamed and she felt herself relax a little as she undressed. She winced as every move made her stomach twist, and she felt like a punch was delivered right into her abdomen, causing her to hunch over some times. She pulled off her underwear and accepted the warm cloth her father gave her to clean up some of the blood. While she was doing that, she could hear him mess with the bath, including a snap of the bubblebath she came to enjoy when she was stressed and nosebleeding everywhere.  
  
"Good thing that Johanna woman suggested these to you, huh? They've come quite in handy," James smiled tenderly at his daughter. When she had cleaned herself off, he assited her into the bathtub, "Adjust the water to your liking, Angel love. I gotta take care of something." With that, he left her to her own devices.  
  
He needed to get her tampons and pain medication. The meds would wear off much faster, but they should take effect for a little while. That was all she needed. With a heavy sigh, James grabbed Angel's phone and pressed the speed dial for Dylan. It was the dead of night, but the twins had been _adamant_  that if there was any sort of emergency not to hesitate. Leaving the apartment while it rang, he got to their apartment door.  
  
"Ung...Angie? Nightmare?" was the first thing out of the boy's mouth. It made James' heart swell that she had other people that worried and cared, even after such a short time.  
  
"Nah, kid. It's her dad. Angel's time hit her. I need tampons and medication. I'm right outside."  
  
Silence, and Dylan hung up. Within three minutes he was opening the door for him, blinking sleepily, "You don't mince words. I shouldn't be surprised you were so blunt about that. Here. Zan won't need them, she just finished hers. I'll be sure to let her know, too, and we'll whip up something to make Angie feel better tomorrow."  
  
"Thanks. Sorry to wake you." James nodded his head, taking the tampon box and bottle.  
  
"Nah, don't be. I'll be passed out in another five. Go, shoo, take care of her." Dylan waved him off and closed the door.  
  
James made his way back, and after filling a glass of water, setting another mug with tea in it in the microwave, he went to the bathroom with the necessities, "Dylan's got you covered, _fetiță_."  
  
Dylan was a constant during the week that they lived in the apartment. Normally she would go over to his place and they would watch anime together or play games on the consules. On bad days where going out of the apartment might as well be the same as breaking out into hives, he came over with something sweet or coffee and they'd talk for hours. "Dyl-dal's the best," She murmured, the bubbles were rising up and the water was the perfect warmth. It had yet to be all the way full. "Have to do something nice. It's late. Early..." She frowned. "How long do I have in here?"  
  
"As long as you want. Desperate times call for desperate measures, hmm?" James kissed the top of her head, "Sorry...not gunna let you have the laptop near the water, though. Would you like me to read you one of your books instead?"  
  
She thought about it for a moment, she didn't think she could handle a bright light. She leaned against the edge of the tub, putting her arms over it to cushion her cheek and she looked at her father curiously. "Tell me a story?" She asked softly. "Not a book. One of yours."  
  
A memory. "I'll grab my journal for some inspiration." With a chuckle, he left for a split second and when he returned yet again, he settled beside the tub and stretched his long legs out. He wouldn't be going back to sleep until she did, anyway. "Let's see what we got here..." he hummed as he flipped through the pages, speed-reading and jumping over the bad ones. There was one in here...where was it? With a click of his tongue he kept going, then smiled as he found it.  
  
"This is a story about how Uncle Steve is such a die-hard about his promises, even when everything just stacks up against him." James rolled his eyes as the words translated into mental pictures. "Winter time when we were kids. Grandma Sarah made a deal with me that Steve could spend Christmas Eve with me since she was working, but she had to have him back for actual Christmas. Sounds fair, right? Well. The week passed and a few days before, he got sick with a cold, but of course with him it always got worse before it got better. Then on Christmas Eve there was a huge blizzard. I told him not to come, not to worry about it. Let his mum take care of him and I'd see him when the weather died down. He wasn't too happy about it, from what little I could hear, the phone lines not very reliable in a storm like that."  
  
James snorted, "Next thing I know, two hours later at about three pm, the guy was standing on my doorstep, his snot frozen to his face, eyes red and bleary, hair a complete mess from where it stuck out from under his head-to-toe layers of winter gear. It was even worse when he took it all off inside. I chewed him out, but all he did was smile at me and tell me 'I told you I would come, didn't I?' and left it at that, running off to say hello to your Aunt Rebecca and the rest of my family. Sure enough, next day rolled around and Steve couldn't even move, so it was one of the few times your Grandma Winifred got Grandma Sarah into our house."  
  
Angelina beamed happily and turned the water off so that she could listen and soak better. She loved stories that involved her grandmothers and his sister. It made his mind cheery and it made his eyes bright. He would have this smile that wasn't pitying or self-deprecating. It was a smile that she knew only very few people could bring to his lips. She felt another violent cramp, but she shifted in the water. "Do you wish you could go all the way back? Like a time traveler?"  
  
"Even if I did that...I don't think anything would change. I wouldn't want it to. Uncle Steve might feel different, because of what happened to me...but what's done is done." James shrugged, "I make do with what I got. Always have and will continue to do so. I want to make contact, as myself, but I'll know when I'm ready. For now, watching you get close to him makes me happy. You're learning new things in leaps and bounds every day, as well."  
  
Angelina nodded her head. Her Uncle Steve was off doing his own thing, but he liked to send her texts of things he thought was interesting. A lot of it was books when he found out that she liked to read. He had a list too and they were going through it together since there were some books she never read and neither had he. But he did teach her things just like Dylan and Zan did. "It's...really hard." She finally said after a moment of her thoughts going through and their silence stretched. She could just feel, from his thoughts, of how proud he was and how sad he was that she was "growing up". She wasn't really "growing", but she supposed that it was all relative. "I miss Hydra sometimes. Things were simpler there. But I don't like them. For what they did to you. What they always did to you. I didn't like that you had to forget me. That you had forget Grandma Winifred and Grandma Sarah and Aunt Rebecca. You always remembered something about Uncle Steve though. I think that's a good thing. Sad, but good."  
  
"Yes...I have fewer memories of them, but he always pops in my mind. I wonder how he'd feel if he knew that?" James leaned his head back against the wall, "He's more than a best friend. I'm remembering that. It's difficult. Being near him at the cafe makes me feel energized, if sad. Then when we're apart like this everything is so bleak. You're my anchor, the only other person I could trust with anything and everything. Without you I don't know where I'd be. I _know_  he'd take us in in a heartbeat. In fact, I'm even expecting something to come up before the lease runs out. I keep that to myself to think about when you're with Dylan. It's just how our lives are. Always fighting. What we have now isn't exactly peace, but there's no imminent danger except for being caught."  
  
Angelina sunk a little further into the tub, the cramps were easing off a bit and the smell of lavender and vanilla was a little soothing on her stomach. She still felt bad; her muscles still just wouldn't work besides letting her sink and keep afloat, too. "I like Dyl-dal." She said slowly. "He's not mean. I like his thoughts. They're not complex. It's nice reading his mind." She was thoughtful. "I don't know. Tower is alright, J.A.R.V.I.S is mission assist, you said so. I like this. I like space. I like having space. I like that I can put things in spaces. But I don't know if the Tower would let me do that. Even if it did, where would Dyl-dal go? Where would Zan go? They have to stay here...it's their home. And what would they do with me? The Tower doesn't know me. If they know I'm blood, they could use me against you. Or they could use you against me. Or they could decide I'm not worth anything. Or I'm worth too much. Maybe you won't be in a cell, maybe I will. Or maybe we both will...I don't want to get caught."  
  
"You are very right on all accounts. Anything could happen." James frowned deeply, "I think...the best bet is to get closer to Uncle Steve. Ask him these questions. See what he thinks and how he feels. If he offers, you can go with him to the Tower. For all we know, Zan could work there for Stark in his personal cafe. With a Tower that size, he has to have one."  
  
Angelina looked at him a little tired. "He keeps promises. I don't think he tells too many lies. He over thinks a lot too. I don't think I can ask questions today or tomorrow though. I hurt and I still hurt. The water's nice, and I don't feel like I'm about to keel over. But...I'm still sore. I think tomorrow's a sleep day."  
  
"We have time." James laughed softly and reached up to pet her hair, "I'm not asking you to do it right away, Angel love. Text or call him tomorrow, let him know you'll be out of commission for this next week, but mention you'd like to hang out with him afterwards. You could show him the shop Johanna offered us, even!" he smiled a little bit wider.  
  
"Ice cream!" Angelina beamed before wincing at the sudden move. "Ugh. I don't like being sick." She slumped a little in the tub before perking and looking at her father. "You laughed. You don't laugh much. I like it."  
  
"You might hear it more in the future." James pinched her nose playfully, "Just focus on getting better now."

* * *

 

The next morning, Angelina was reading one of her books in bed, her legs propped up to hold the novel as she eagerly read the words that were starting to paint pictures in her mind. She had decided that the laptop was just too much of a headache still and she couldn't focus on the print that was accompanied by a bright screen, even turned down some. The book that she was currently reading made her wish that magic was real, dragons were real, and that she could wield a sword. She was pretty certain that she'd be a real good swordsmaster. Though she undoubtedly would make more of a mess than her butcher knife. No one knew where the knife was, which made her happy. Trees always knew what they were doing, and according to some books, had voices of their own.  
  
She was so sucked into this, that she jumped when she heard the apartment door knock. She frowned, she couldn't grab the door. Last time she tried standing up, the floor nearly met her face and her father barely had time to catch her it happened so fast. That was why they decided that she wasn't to get up unless she had someone with her to help, and if it was for _necessary_  reasons. A door wasn't a necessary reason. Her father should be somewhere around the apartment...she doubted that he left.  
  
"Dylan, Zan. I was wondering how long it would take for you to come by. What on _earth_  is that monstrosity?"  
  
"Ice cream cake." Zan answered, her voice amused. "We heard that Angel wasn't feeling good and ice cream and cake usually is like the two best sweet comfort foods. But Dylan here decided that he was going to be ambitious and try to make an ice cream cake instead. So, I guess it's a two for one deal."  
  
"It's not the best looking, no, but I got up early to make it and it will be eaten." Dylan said firmly, "She in the room? Give it, sis..." it didn't take long for Dylan to appear at the doorway, "TADA!" he cheered, holding up the cake. It was pretty plain, but what made James gawk was the size of it. "It comes with spoons! I'll take them back later," he laughed.  
  
"So much!" Angelina burst into laughter. "We'll need plates. I don't have any in here. You made this? You woke up early? You don't wake up that early. You wake at ten. Did you get enough sleep?"  
  
"I'm fine. Plenty of coffee. If I take a nap later then that's cool, too." With a shrug he just sat down on the edge of his bed and maneuvered himself so he was sitting in front of her, the cake between them and he picked up a spoon, shoving it towards her, "Plates are for the weak."  
  
Angelina carefully placed her book away and picked the spoon up. She cut in a little piece and took a bite of it, humming thoughtfully. "It tastes good." She brightened. "I don't know the flavor though."  
  
"It's oreo. Something I was sure we could all agree on. I'll have to get a ton of snacks and have you try them. If you don't like anything don't worry about it. I'll just take them to work and people will snatch any type of food right up," Dylan beamed at her, taking a bite.  
  
"What do you do?" Angelina asked. She could hear Zan and her father talking, something about something. She couldn't exactly catch what they were saying, and they weren't in range for her to read thoughts. "Something with computers..no...games."  
  
"Wow, a week later and I haven't told you where I work." Dylan laughed, "A lan center, or a place with a ton and a half of computers and consoles like x-box." He explained and looked over his shoulder as Zan and James walked in, "Oh, they brought plates."  
  
"Because we're supposed to be _civilized_  people, boy," James teased, also wielding a knife to cut the cake with.  
  
"And if you make a mess of the bedspread that Angelina's on, I'm forcing you to do laundry." Zan said happily as she sat down close to Angelina and gently placed her wrist on her forehead. "At least you don't have a fever to worry about." She let her wrist down and smiled when James passed her a plate of the ice cream.  
  
"No, not the laundry!" Dyla gasped dramatically and then laughed as he took the plate, "Fine, fine. Have it your way. Anyway, um...Angie, if at any point you get sick of being stuck in bed, lemme know? I'll take you out to my favorite pizza place, and maybe I'll take you to my work, too, so you can see where it is and what it's like."  
  
Angelina perked as she took a plate too and Zan started cutting the pieces. "Really? You'll let me out? That sounds good. I never had pizza before. I bet it's good." She smiled brightly. "Do you like your work?"  
  
"I love my job, but I understand not everyone's as lucky as I am." Dylan nodded, "Of course, there's cons to everything even mine, like yelling at kids to get out of the strip club in GTA all the time, but you know, I gotta do what I gotta do."  
  
"You could tell them not to play. It's eighteen years." Angelina pointed out. "Pull the plug! You got them." She beamed at him happily and she thought about it. "I...wonder what I'd do."  
  
"You do you." Zan smiled brightly. "Right now, I think you're exactly where you need to be. A job would make you overstimulate your telepathy."  
  
"Oh.." Angelina rubbed her head. "Not good."  
  
"No, not really. You're still getting a handle on it, right? You never had to deal with things outside of small missions which then you'd be out of commission afterwards. New York is a huge ass motherfuckin' city, so it's no surprise to me that you get overwhelmed so fast like you do. You're so lucky the cafe is a calm place in the mornings." Dylan reached over and patted her knee.  
  
James had just been eating thoughtfully and silently while they talked, and this made him realize just how lucky he was to have two kids who were willing to listen and understand. Zan hadn't even batted an eye when she encountered him earlier that week as the Soldier in the middle of the night, all short sentences and 'confirm' this or 'confirm' that. She'd just done her thing and made him comfortable. Of course they knew he was the Winter Soldier after that whole mess when he and Angel met Dylan. Who else could he be, after all?  
  
Angelina looked over at her father and smiled warmly at his thoughts and she looked at the twins. She reached and gently held Dylan's hand with a bright smile before letting his hand go and taking a bite of her cake. "Small steps. Date, then bigger things like work if need be." She said with a bit of a nod. "Though I don't think work is a worry yet."  
  
"Dating huh?" Zan teased, nudging Dylan in the side with a sly smile. "That's a small step for you guys. Though then again an outing would be a nicer word to use for now. Dates are for something a little more serious." She winked at Angelina.  
  
"Oh wrong word." Angelina blinked, "My fault."  
  
"A lot of people don't know the difference," Zan shook her head from side to side. "So it's not your fault society decided that beating around the bush is better than to just say "hey wanna go out on a date"."  
  
"One step at a time, for sure," Dylan smiled just a bit shyly, "I'm sure you'll like pizza. Everyone likes pizza since you can make it anyway you want. Unless you don't like bread and cheese, you're fine. You can even get pizza without sauce if someone's allergic to tomatoes."  
  
"Not allergic to anything." Angelina beamed proudly. "So I can eat it with everything. Well not everything. Don't think it'll taste that good."  
  
"You'd be surprised, there's one called the Supreme with a ton of veggies and meats." Dylan snickered, "We'll start small with that, too, though. Pepperoni is a fan favorite, and there's Meat Lovers and Veggie Lovers. Then you can start making your own and we'll order pizza to the apartment for anime marathon nights!"  
  
Zan laughed at Angelina's happy grin and she shook her head from side to side. "You're invited too James." She promised, patting James' on the shoulder. "Though if you ever want the apartment to yourself, we'll be happy to whisk her away to animated worlds."  
  
Angelina beamed, "Yes!"

* * *

 

"So, what are your feelings on the Meat Lover's?" Dylan asked as Angelina chewed her second bite thoughtfully, the first having not much on it as it was just the tip. The cheese was all gooey and he had gotten himself a straight up cheese pizza. They'd also gotten soda pop, his filled with Dr. Pepper and hers with Root Beer.  
  
"I like the meat, I'm not crazy about ham." Angelina said slowly as she swallowed and took a drink of her root beer. It was really nice to finally get out of the apartment after being stuck in bed for days on end. Of course, the pizza shop had a lot of people in it, but it wasn't...overwhelming yet. There was a crowd, but their talking drowned out their thoughts, which was nice. She couldn't tell if she was reading their mind or overhearing a conversation so, it was easy to kind of tune out. Especially since she didn't want to get a nosebleed today. "I like the pepperoni, and I like the sausage. The spice."  
  
"You're a spicy kinda girl, are ya?" Dylan grinned, "I'll remember that. I wonder what you'd say if you got a Hawaiian. People either do or don't like pineapple on their pizza. I personally don't like pineapple anyway, but I do like Canadian bacon."  
  
"I don't know, I think it depends on the flavor." Angelina took another bite of the pizza and frowned in thought. Pineapple on pizza. It didn't sound horrible. "What kind of person are you? Do you like spice?"  
  
"I don't mind it," Dylan shook his head, "Taco seasoning is about as 'spicy' as I can get, though. Zan hates me for it. I don't like Mexican food like at all. Tacos and burritos I often make at home 'cause I can make it anyway I want."  
  
"I never had any of that." Angelina admitted, "So I don't know. But _tată_ is learning how to cook from Zan I think. He was thinking about cooking earlier. I think it might be Zan. I don't know. I doubt it could be Uncle Steve. They can't contact. After what happened in the cafe. Who knows what he's gonna make, or learn to make. Or maybe he does something else. I don't know. I know he knows the basics. He's been showing me."  
  
"That's good! I can show you stuff, too. I like baking more, though. Whip everything together, throw it in the oven, set the timer, and leave it alone. I don't like cooking on the range or stove much. Can't do grilling, either. Your dad looks like the grilling type, though. Instead of using tongs, he could just use his hand!"  
  
"Probably. He's used it for worse." Angelina nodded, taking another bite. "It's been through worse too. I don't know. I don't know if he'll use it like that. It's an funny image though."  
  
Dylan snickered, "I'll show you how to make cookies and brownies and fudge. You like the bitter chocolates from overseas, so I'll show you what baking chocolate is like instead of using Hershey’s.”  
  
Angelina perked a little. "Really? That'll be fun. Huh...what got you into baking?"  
  
"My mother," Dylan chuckled, "I'm a Momma's boy, really...and Zan...she was definitely a daddy's girl. I'm sure you've seen the necklace she wears with the ring? That was our father's."  
  
"What happened to him?" Angelina asked, looking concerned. "Is your mom okay too?"  
  
"Our mom's fine," Dylan shook his head, "Our dad died in Afghanistan. It was...awful. It's only been a couple years, too, so it...still hurts. We all still miss him."  
  
She frowned and reached across the table to let him hold her hand if he wanted to. It explained a lot on why Zan was so flexible, and why Dylan just understood. In their eyes, the Winter Soldier was just that. A Soldier who needed to come home. She bowed her head down. "I didn't mean to ask something sad." She said after a moment. "I know it hurts. I didn't get to spend a lot of time with my _tată_. This is the longest we've been together. It makes me scared. Happy. Sad. His memories and the Soldier are I guess coming to a truce. Something like that. But there's things he doesn't know. Therefore, he can't remember them. I hope he never goes back to the war. I wish that we were left alone. But that just won't happen. What's your mom like?"  
  
"It's okay that you asked a sad question," Dylan did take her hand, rubbing the back of her knuckles with his thumb. Whenever they touched, he enjoyed the feeling that traveled through his body. It wasn't as shocking as the first time, but more pleasant tingling and warmth. "Your dad's a fighter. He'll get back to the fight eventually, but for now the quiet life is doing him good. You, too. He'll get his memories back slowly but surely. Anyway, as for my mom? She's a tough woman. Has to be to deal with twins like Zan and I," he laughed, "She's kind, sure, but she'll banter with the best of them. Not so much sassy as she is feisty."  
  
"Sounds like a good person." Angelina smiled warmly and used her other hand to grab her cup and take a sip of her drink before setting it down. "The quite life is doing us good. It's a bit unnatural, but..." She shrugged. "So what to do after this? Where to go?"  
  
"Well, is there anywhere you'd _like_  to go? There's so many places. There's a roller skating rink, a skateboard park...this time of year you can go swimming at one of the many pool parks. Mm...Butterfly House, several Botanical Gardens..." Dylan tapped his chin, thinking hard, "I dunno. That might be something you could look at on your laptop, New York for tourists or something."  
  
"I haven't been to a garden yet. Uncle Steve mentioned it to me before." Angelina said thoughtfully. "We could explore. We could find the butterfly house too. I bet that's pretty." She paused. "I don't think swimming's  a good idea. I'd scare children with my scars."  
  
Dylan winced, "That's true. We'd have better luck with swimming if we went to an indoor pool. Unfortunately, our apartment doesn't have a pool of any kind." He smiled and finished off his pizza, "So, let's go find the butterfly house, then!"

* * *

"They were so pretty and I liked the garden. The flowers were beautiful. I wonder if we should get plants. I don't know if _tată_ would like that all that much. I never really tried keeping things alive before." Angelina babbled happily as they walked down the street back towards their apartment. "The butterflies were gorgeous. I think they're my favorite. besides the ducks we ran into. I liked the ducks."  
  
"The ducks were pretty awesome." Dylan agreed, a giant smile going from eat to ear across his face, "All those butterflies were such a sight to see. It was so cute when the one landed on your shoulder! We really need to get you a camera."  
  
"A camera? Really? Why?" Angelina turned around on the ball of her foot and started walking backwards to face Dylan. "It'd be fun to learn to use. It's not something I used before. Computers. I wonder if I'd like it."  
  
"I'm sure you'd love it. Zan has one, I'm sure she wouldn't mind showing you at all!" Dylan laughed, "We can check that out later, though. It's been a pretty long day. Do you wanna watch anime at all to unwind? We left off at a pretty intense part last time."  
  
"It'll be nice." Angelina nodded, turning back and doing a small skip to get back into sync with him. "Why did you think of photos? Me taking them?"  
  
"You taking pictures, me taking pictures, Zan taking pictures of the two of us...you can take pictures of your dad to show to Steve, too, maybe? There's so many things you can do with camera." Dylan explained.  
  
"Would that harm mission protect?" Angelina placed a finger on her lips. "I never was supposed to be in front of cameras. Always behind. Always move. Blur as much as you can. Stuff a body in front of them so that you're not seen." She paused, "Oops. Thoughts aloud. Sorry."  
  
"No, no I get it," Dylan assured, "That's for security cameras, though, isn't it? Do you think it'd be alright if it was for personal use only? Zan could show you how to scrapbook, so you can put anything you take in the book for record keeping and then delete them off the camera."  
  
Angelina blinked slowly. Another type of record keeping. She had started to slack off a little on the shower logs, though there were times she woke up nauseous from not doing enough and would record everything after that. How much she ate, how many hours on the computer, who she spoke to, it worried her father sometimes. But other times, she slacked. "I don't know. I think it might be useful." She said carefully. "The book is a good idea. Personal. I should talk to _tată_ about that. Make sure it doesn't hurt mission protect. I don't want the Soldier to get upset as much as I don't want _tată_ to get too stressed. It's bad enough. It's bad enough."  
  
"Shh, that's cool. Talk to James about it before you make any decisions. Talk to Zan about borrowing hers or just playing with it. If it all comes down to it's a bad idea, then that's fine. I just thought it would be something fun for you to do," Dylan shushed and reached over, rubbing her back.  
  
Angelina sighed, leaning a little into the touch. "Still not used to a lot of freedom." She explained after a moment. "Still not used to a lot of things I'm supposed to be. I didn't mean to frighten you. Scare you." She opened her arm up so that he could give her a side hug if he wanted it. "Fun is a hard thing to get used to. Still worried it can go away."  
  
"It's alright, I promise. You've only been free for...two months now? Or is it nearing three? I really don't know. You're doing much better than I think you would've, after some of the things you told me." Dylan frowned, "Being scared is inevitable, for both of us. You're fine, though. I swear. We're going to be fine."  
  
She nodded solemnly, she let her arm down and looked at him with a sad smile on her face. "I won't be a downer." She promised. "Three months. It's been three. A long time. We met two weeks ago." She shook her head from side to side. "...It's been a lot longer since I spoke to Uncle Steve face to face. We talk on the phone. He understands. It was...hard on all of us. I wonder if I should try to meet up with him. I kind of miss him. I know that feeling."  
  
"Hey...you do what you do, alright?" Dylan watched her carefully, the circle of thoughts he had 'should I...should I not...' going around a few times before he caressed her cheek, 'I'll do this instead' is what he decided on and he leaned down enough to kiss her forehead, "You're worrying too much."  
  
Angelina blinked in surprise as he kissed her forehead. She felt her cheeks warm, and she smiled. Her father did that to her more and more often. It made her heart spin and she felt giddy. "I guess so." She agreed before grabbing his wrist and started dragging him down the street. "Come on. Let's go home and watch anime. We're at the best part now."


	11. Flying Sam Strikes Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys, weeks went by and I didn't even notice. I've been kinda living day to day.

Steve walked over to the park bench and sat down next to Angelina. She had a notebook placed precariously on her lap and a pencil that was lightly tapping at her lower lip. She was watching some of the kids play soccer with a furrowed brow. He gently nudged her with his elbow and smiled when she looked over at him. "Here." He said, handing her a can of soda.  
  
"Thank you." She smiled as she took the can and tapped the lid a few times before cracking it open. The drink fizzed, popping bubbles before settling and she took a drink.  
  
"What are you writing in your notebook if I can ask?" Steve asked, looking down at the page. It didn't make much sense to him. A jumble of military time and abbreviations that went with it.  
  
Angelina looked down at the notebook, "It's a log."  
  
"A log?"  
  
"A time log." She corrected and smiled at him. " _Tată_ told me that I didn't have to record time anymore. Sometimes I don't but..."  
  
"Sometimes you just have to." Steve understood some of it. He was still used to waking up at dawn and going to sleep when he could. Sometimes he still believed that he was in the war, listening to gunshots and grenades going off. Sometimes he believed he was still watching Bucky fall off of the train even though he was very much alive along with a daughter.  
  
He looked over at Angelina, but she didn't seem to be too bothered. She was tapping the eraser to her lips as she looked at the log that she was creating. He couldn't help but to wonder about what she was like. What did Hydra do to her. Something awful and filled with torture judging by the scars. But she was genetically half super-soldier. Regeneration should be in her blood. Those scars should be horrible memories by now. Her hair that was stark white, where's the color? How stressed out did they force her to be? What kind of person did Hydra force Bucky to be with? Was Bucky even apart of it? Did he care about her mother at all or was it...  
  
Angelina stopped tapping her pencil to her lips and just watched Steve. Steve noticed it after a moment and when he realized what he was thinking he turned away, in shame. She frowned and reached out, touching his shoulder and rubbing it back and forth. She let her hand down and she took another drink of her soda that she had rested in between her thighs. "I don't know a lot of those answers."  
  
"Hydra wouldn't really keep you informed about anything," Steve said stiffly. He sighed loudly. "I don't want you to explain unless you absolutely want to, Angel."  
  
Angelina nodded her head, but she wore a skeptical look on her face. He presumed that if he was really honest about that, then he was supposed to prove it by not thinking about the situations that her and Bucky must have gotten themselves into to turn into the people that they became. The Winter Soldier story, as hard as it was to track down, was an easy one to read. Natasha was good at finding things about her past after all. But the Companion had absolutely nothing on her...and he was thinking about it again.  
  
She huffed a laugh and went back to her logs and he sighed, though whether it was out of relief or just exhaustion, Steve didn't know. They sat in silence for a moment longer, her pencil scratching at the paper and he just watched the kids play wishing that he had brought his sketchbook.  
  
The tearing of paper made him jump and he watched silently as she pressed a paper and her pencil to him. She also handed him her notebook, so that he could draw. He smiled at her and started to sketch.  
  
She sat there, sometimes swinging her legs back and forth as she watched the soccer game play out. Sometimes she got bored and she looked up at the sky or looked elsewhere. Sometimes she tilted her head, listening as a couple or a jogger went by them, talking in one conversation and thinking in another. "I guess this isn't bad." She mused aloud.  
  
"What isn't?" Steve asked, his pencil still etching at lines and shading.  
  
"This." She gestured to the park. "People-watching. I think I understand why _tată_ does it now. Protection-detail yes. It's something I'm not good at. But for fun? In small doses is fun."  
  
"I always thought that people were interesting." He said slowly, etching something really slowly and carefully on the paper before going out and working again. "You never face the same person twice unless you're in a confined building."  
  
"Dylan wants to take me to a con. When I can handle big crowds. But that's hard." Angelina leaned back. "So many thoughts zoom. I can't keep track of them all. Not every thought is nice either. Some thoughts are really mean. I don't come across cruel ones often."  
  
"I doubt they'd live if they did."  
  
"Bingo." Angelina nodded solemnly. "Bingo. Bingo."  
  
"Maybe if I ask Sam, he might be able to give some advice. We have a lot of vetarns who don't do crowds either." Steve sat up and pulled the sketch away, looked at it with a critical eye before bringing it back to his lap and started again, this time erasing some marks. "Have you thought of getting Bucky into the V.A?"  
  
"I don't even know what that is." Angelina frowned. "And I don't think I'd be able to go inside."  
  
"You're not a vet that's true. So you wouldn't be able to attend the meetings," Steve agreed. "But you could wait outside."  
  
"Look suspicious. The vets wouldn't like that. The V.A is a safe place for them right?" Steve nodded and she continued. "I'm not safe to them. Therefore, their safe place is compromised."  
  
Steve looked at her. "Angelina. Can I ask you something personal?"  
  
"Okay."  
  
"...Why were you called the Companion?"  
  
"Everything else sounded bad. The Soldier didn't like the name the Hydra handler gave me. He thought that my name was being taken away. So, he gave me a handler's name. He said this firmly. She is Companion. Nothing more and less to you. The handlers thought it was funny. They kept my name, but they used Companion out in the field. Last handler that disobeyed the Soldier got himself killed with a bunch of bullets. It was not a pretty sight."  
  
"What name did you go by before Companion?" Steve asked slowly.  
  
Angelina shook her head from side to side. "I won't tell you."  
  
"Sorry."  
  
"Why sorry?" She blinked and looked at Steve. "You asked a question. I said no. That doesn't mean say sorry. It just means I don't want to talk about it. No one should be sorry for that. A lot of people say "sorry" a lot, even in their minds. So easily offended...and so easily silenced. Even their anger has an apology in it."  
  
"I'm used to saying the word too I guess."  
  
"No." Angelina shook her head. "With you "sorry" means something. You said it to me because you didn't want me scared. You didn't want me upset. You were afraid that saying your question would hurt me. It's okay. With you I get it. But with other people...sorry doesn't linger right. It doesn't sound sincere, even when it's genuinely meant."  
  
"I bet Bucky has the same thoughts," Steve chuckled as he began shading. "..."  
  
She tilted her head, watching the game play and the children jeer at each other. One side scored and that side high fived a lot. The others huddled, making plans to beat them next time. She looked over at Steve and blinked slowly. "Your thoughts are gone."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Nothing." Angelina shook head from side to side and took another drink of her soda. Drawing took Steve's thoughts away. He was super focused on the drawing that was being sketched to life on the paper. She didn't dare glance at it to see what it was that he was drawing. Zan told her that art and music didn't get to have sneak peeks. Art was private till it was shown publicly and same with music.  
  
Well, whatever kept Steve from the most dangerous mission and his scary train of thoughts. Angelina could support it. After a while, Steve folded up the sketch and passed it to her.  
  
When she gave it to her father that very same day, she missed the soft expression on his face. She missed that he went to his room to tape the sketch in his notebook. She missed that the sketch was her, scars and all on a park bench, with a smile that was once common place on Bucky Barnes' lips.

* * *

"Something's on your mind, Angel. What is it?" James asked several days later, "You want to ask me something? You don't tend to stall unless you are unsure of my reaction."  
  
It was true. Time and time again she would go up to him, open her mouth, and then promptly leave till a new question that was easier to answer and easier to determine what kind of reaction it would have came to her. But this...this she still wasn't sure of. Ever since Dylan mentioned the photos, she had started looking at cameras. She started looking on the internet to see with renewed interest what photos looked like. Was she a film artist or was she a digital master? The longer she researched, the more she thought about it and it was starting to become painful to not ask the question. She shifted, her tongue feeling dry and her stomach twisted uncomfortable as she thought about it. She shifted from side to side. "A...." She started before frowning. "It's...I..." She shifted again. "Talk? Can I...talk to you?" That was probably the best way to start.  
  
"Well, considering I started this conversation, of course you can talk to me." James was slightly amused, but he took her to the couch so he could sit beside her and listen intently to whatever it was she wanted to say.  
  
The couch felt a little more grounding to her. She didn't feel too out of depth, but her stomach still twisted and she could swear her palms were getting sweaty from moving and twisting. Her mouth still felt dry, and sometimes her legs jerked without meaning to, to get up and walk out. To pretend that this conversation didn't need to happen, but it did. He said more than once what she wanted mattered and that she mattered. "You don't like me keeping time logs..."  
  
"Just because I understand doesn't mean I like it, you are correct." James nodded slowly.  
  
"Dyl-dal told me another way to log time." Angelina shifted. "But it's...." She pursed her lips together and lowered her voice. "It's dangerous. A little. Hydra wouldn't like it much. And if it falls into wrong hands..." she shrugged helplessly. "We could get caught. You could disappear."  
  
James furrowed his brows tightly, "That doesn't sound very good...but Dylan is a good kid. Just what would he suggest that you think's so dangerous?"  
  
Angelina blinked and she thought about what she was going to say. "Hydra told me it was. They said not to be seen. If seen, we compromise the mission. That's why we shoot at security cameras, or I stuff a body in front of them. But Dyl-dal told me that I should take photos. He said Zan knows a method of time logging that's called a scrapbook. He thinks the photos will be safe in there. He thinks it'll be good idea."  
  
He tried. In fact, he tried so hard that James made a snorting sort of sound a few times while he held it together, but in the end he just gave up and _cracked up_. Not his usual chuckles, not the soft 'heheh', but he threw his head back and laughed, his hand going to his stomach.  
  
Angelina jumped in alarm and stared at her father like he grew a few heads. She had never...heard him laugh like that. The momentary panic fled to awe as she watched him laugh and listened to it. It wasn't sadistic. It wasn't something that he was doing out of courtesy either. It was genuine as can be. She wondered if Uncle Steve heard this laugh before. Would it be something familiar to him? She cracked a smile of her own, and giggled a little. His laughter was infectious and it made her smile brightly. More brightly than Uncle Steve and Dyl-dal. She hoped she'd hear it again.  
  
"Oh, oh, Angel. My dear _fetiță_ ," James shook his head and rubbed his eyes as he tried to catch his breath. He hadn't meant to laugh, it just happened. "That's what you've been so worried about? You do realize that whatever Hydra said doesn't _matter_  anymore, right?" He reached over and ruffled her hair, "It was good to stay hidden at the Hydra base, because if Fury is after us he no doubt has that file and whatever pictures the cameras took. Now? It's okay if you're seen here. You're seen all the time when you're out with Dylan and when we've gone shopping. It's only really me that we have to be careful of. Yet, with a _scrapbook_ , you can take pictures of our everyday life. I feel as though Uncle Steve and Flying Sam would like that."  
  
Angelina frowned. "Why is scrapbook a good thing...and why are time logs a bad thing?" It was probably another silly question, but it was something that she wondered. It allowed her some time to think about the "Hydra doesn't matter" statement that he said. It was one thing to live a clean life, to talk badly of them and to say they're never going back. To say they didn't _matter_  a whole other ballgame.  
  
"Because, taking pictures requires you to find things you _want_  to log. If you have it with you when you're out and something catches your eye, you take a picture of it. Dylan's smiling or has a really concentrated look when he's playing his video games? Take a picture of it." James smiled softly. "A _time log_  is tings you feel obligated to record, like how long you're on the computer, what and when you ate, shower times."  
  
"What I want matters..." Angelina repeated softly, looking down at the couch between them in thought. "I matter. But...Hydra doesn't? Matter?" She looked at him a little fearfully, a little scared that it was okay for him to say it, but wrong for her.  
  
James tugged her to him and hugged her tightly, "That's right, Angel. I know it's hard. They raised you when I didn't get to. Yet you turned out just fine. I love you so much, and I'm really proud of you, you know that? Hydra doesn't have a hold on us if they don't matter. What they want and what we want are two different things. I want you, us, to be happy. I want to protect you and Uncle Steve, and Flying Sam and the twins. Hydra wants us back as their puppets and they want all of them dead."  
  
Angelina felt tears well up. "I don't want them dead." Her voice cracked as she accepted the hug and held him tightly too. Just imagining them dead made her heart feel heavy and her throat clog up. They wouldn't die peacefully. They'd die with so much blood and it scared her a little further into her father's hold. "They've been s-so nice to us."  
  
"Yes, yes they have." James rocked her, "I told them before that I'm grateful to have them, but I don't think they'll ever really understand. There's only so much they can comprehend, even if they have a military background."  
  
"Civilians." Angelina sniffed adjusting her hold so she could be held better and so it wouldn't put too much strain on her arms. "I don't want them to be apart of this, _tată_. Hydra can hurt them. S.H.I.E.L.D too. Uncle Steve said Flying Sam might be able to help me do crowds...so I can deal with people."  
  
"They could, yes. They'll be more than happy to help you with anything." James kissed the top of her head, "They're going to be a part of it no matter what happens, however. Zan knows Steve and Sam. Dylan seems to know Steve a bit, too. Even if they didn't know us, they'd have been in our lives somehow."  
  
Angelina pulled away from the hug and watched her father for a moment. She lowered her eyes, thinking before nodding her head and looking at her father. "The mission is to protect. I can...expand on that. If I want. Because...the mission is..." it was hard to say it, but she managed. "flexible. I can protect the Civilians. You're better at protecting friends. Maybe. Possibly."  
  
"I'll protect who I can." James nodded with a tender smile, "I love you, Angel. You're doing real good. When you decide on a camera you want, let me know and I'll get it for you."  
  
"I've been looking at cameras. I'm still undecided about what I want. I'll let you know, I promise." Angelina beamed happily, hugging him again. "Thank you. I love you too."

* * *

"Whatcha got there, kiddo?" Sam asked as he met with Angelina at the cafe, since it was a spot they both knew besides the park. Steve was busy, and he was quite surprised when he got the message on his phone that she wanted to hang out. "I haven't seen you in almost a month! You look pretty good."  
  
She blinked and smiled. "Thank you. It's a camera. _Tată_ gave me permission to take photos." She took the camera case that she had strapped over shoulder and placed it on the cafe table. "It's been a long month." She admitted. "But I think we're doing good. We like the apartment that we're in. Well lit unlike the hotels we were staying in. We have a balcony. We're thinking of getting plants to make it a little more live-in." She shifted. "Uncle Steve's been asking strange questions, but he told me you could help me with projects. I didn't want to assume though."  
  
"What kind of projects?" Sam straightened in his seat, brightening up with excitement, "What made you want to come to me, if I might ask?"  
  
Angelina was shocked to see that he was taking this request with excitement. She would've thought that he would be overly cautious or something. She thought about it for a moment, wanting to give him a good answer. "Uncle Steve mentioned to me a few weeks ago that you were good at things. You were good with your vets. You helped down at the V.A. A couple of days ago, I gave him a missi-" She broke off and huffed. "I told him about my day. He said that my projects go hand in hand with what you do best. He told me you were the best person to seek advice. He...warned me though that there were a lot of things you couldn't do."  
  
"I'll tell ya what." Sam put his hands on the table, "You just tell me what you want to do, and if anything comes up that I can't do, I'll let you know. How's that sound? If you want advice on anything personal, though, I'd suggest private settings. I moved from DC after that big fight with the Soldier and got an apartment over around Brooklyn Heights."  
  
"Should we go there then?" Angelina asked curiously. "I don't know what would be personal or not. I don't want to slip and have you get in trouble. Safety first before sorry."  
  
"That's cool, I getcha. I drive my car. You good with confined spaces? I can always roll the window down for you." Sam promised as he stood up.  
  
"I'm good." Angelina stood up as well and grabbed her camera case so she wouldn't forget it and followed him out to his car. " _Tată_ doesn't do well in taxis. I trust you won't drive me somewhere to kill me. Uncle Steve would hate that."  
  
"Your dad wouldn't be the only one I'd have to worry about if I did that." Sam winked, "Not only your Uncle Steve, but a certain pair of twins, too."  
  
"You say nice things. This is why I also came to you." Angelina beamed as she followed him to his car. "Road trip! Can I sit in the front with you?"  
  
"Yeah! Go right ahead," Sam waved his hand with a flourish and got in on the driver's side. On the road to his house, he looked over at her through the corner of his eye whenever he had the chance, "This is technically a safe spot. If you wanna talk now you could."

* * *

Angelina thought about it. It felt like a safe space. The outside was going by her and she was able to catch glimpses of places that she hadn't been yet that also looked like they'd be interesting to go into. There were a bunch of stores that she didn't realize were so close to them. A bunch of them really. Some looked really expensive, while others looked like they weren't. She leaned back against the car seat, content and holding her camera case on her lap. Sam didn't try talking anymore, which was nice of him. So many people like herself would just fill up the silence with chatter.  
  
But this was relaxing. It was...familiar to her to be in a car. Being transported to a place. She'd never get to look out the window. She'd never get to see how the scenery would pass by and what was outside the world. But it was familiar and it was soothing. "Why Brooklyn?" She asked after a moment, looking over at Sam. "You lived in D.C, so why move to Brooklyn? Wouldn't you want to go home?"

"After helping Cap, Uncle Steve, I realized if I was going to get back into the game of fighting evil villains that I needed to be where Steve is the most. I trust him, he trusts me. I also know if Steve'd been accused of what he had been here, Tony would've gone to town." Sam shook his head, turning another street, "As it is, he's been real good to him and I've gotten to know him pretty well, like at Steve's party, but I'm just not comfortable with the idea of living in the Tower. Having so many super heros in one place has it's pros and cons, ya know. They can either all be wiped out at once, or if somebody _does_  attack then they'd get a real ass whoopin'."

Angelina nodded, "We're offered asylum if we go to the tower." She rested her head against the window, continuing to watch the scenery go by.  " _Tată_ thinks it's a good idea. I worry too. Not the same concerns you have, but...maybe similar." They finally got to a decent sized apartment building and they parked underneath a awning that was inside of the space. She got out and grabbed her camera case and followed Sam towards the building and inside.  
  
"So, this brings me to the question that's been on all of our minds." Sam fished his key from his pocket while they walked up the stairs to the 2nd floor. He waited until they were inside and he was hanging up his jacket before he continued, "Does your father even know what he's waiting _for_?"  
  
"To meet Steve as is." Angelina answered as she took off her shoes by the door and wandered the apartment, looking at the space. There were a lot of monochrome artist work on the walls, but there were some military photos that were on tables and by the computer. She didn't dare go over to those. "The Soldier is not a voice like I have voices. He's a person. But he's not a personality. I don't know how to explain it."  
  
"Then why doesn't he? I've heard he's not safe, or that he's not ready or something like that." Sam explained as he went to the kitchen and grabbed himself some orange juice before looking over his shoulder, "Have you tried this before?"  
  
"Orange juice? No...I want to try." Angelina followed him into the kitchen and took a seat at the dining table that he had. It was small, able to fit about four people around. It was a nice, decent size. Undoubtedly Uncle Steve would come here for dinner or Sam would drag him here. She thought about the question that he asked and she frowned deeply. "That's because he isn't. I don't think I'm explaining things right."  
  
"Well, I know he isn't, so that's alright. I'm a pretty patient person, so take your time. I might not be asking the right questions, either. It's not all your fault." Sam soothed and he brought her a shotglass with orange juice in it, "This is to taste it, and if you like it I'll get you a bigger glass."  
  
Angelina took the shot glass and did what anyone would do and tipped her head back drinking it one go. She pursed her lips together in thought and smiled, "I like it. It's sweet and tart." She placed the shot glass back down. "A big glass please. Thank you. Uncle Steve tried asking the hard questions too, but _tată_ told me he didn't need to know. I think it's okay if you ask the hard ones."  
  
"Steve is just concerned. To him, it's only been a few years ago. The time warp is odd, but I understand to a degree. James as lived through the ages as a weapon, Steve's been asleep." Sam sighed as he rinsed and dried the shot glass, put it away, and got down another big one as he continued. "He lost his friend, went on the warpath and I'm sure he was prepared to die. Woke up in this era, new tech, new everything, people he knew from back then also dead or dying. Even Peggy is old and frail. Now he's got a chance to get that friend back and he's being told he can't. It's breaking the guy's heart."  
  
"That goes against mission protect." Angelina said slowly, as Sam placed the glass in front of her. She looked at the camera case that was still hanging on her shoulders and she took it off. She rubbed her lips together. "I don't know if _tată_ knows. It's something to discuss."  
  
"James has his own crap to deal with, though." Sam hummed as he sat down across from her, "You can tell him, but I don't think it's going to change much. It sounds like to me, that your father is terrified."  
  
"Very much so." Angelina agreed, looking relieved. "Uncle Steve asks me hard questions. Mostly about myself. Sometimes about _tată_. He's read his file, I think he's trying to figure out mine." She paused. "I think that's another reason why he doesn't let Uncle Steve close."  
  
"You're gunna have to elaborate, kiddo." Sam tilted his head at her a bit.  
  
"I think he's ashamed." Angelina clarified. "Not...of me. But the circumstances that happened to..." She looked away. "Make me. Build me too I guess. Mostly make."  
  
Rape. That was easy to clarify. If she was a Hydra tank-bred child there wouldn't be such emotional attachment and such, at the very least. "How old are you, sweetheart?" Sam asked curiously.  
  
" _Tată_ says that I'm eighteen." Angelina answered as she took a sip of the orange juice, smiling around the rim. "He...didn't know I existed till I was five. Then we started having intervals of not seeing each other for years. Eleven. Sixteen...recently now."  
  
"That's...that explains a lot, really. He just found you, basically, and you're all grown up now, and am I right to assume you're starting to get with Dylan? Zan talks about you two all the time to Steve and I." Sam explained.  
  
Angelina blushed and took another sip of the juice. "I like Dyl-dal." She said softly. "A lot of bad things have happened. He knows that. Not the whole story yet, but he's managed to get bits and pieces. He's starting to understand the big picture. He's not afraid of me and he makes me happy. So...yeah. You're right."  
  
"That's good. I'm really happy for you." Sam nodded with a smile, taking a long, thoughtful drink. "How are things at home? Learning new things? Do you have a favorite color? Favorite animal like cats or dogs?" He could ask any hard questions later. He really did just want to know more about her for the moment.  
  
Angelina perked at the easy questions. "I like our home a lot. We still get nightmares and sometimes the voices get loud, but so far it's a safe space. I'll be sad when the lease is up. We might re-new it but _tată_ has other ideas. I learned a bunch of things. Including projects I need your help with." She pointed at her camera. "Dyl-dal told me that a camera is a better way to time log. _Tată_ didn't like that I would make my time logs. I have to find things I want to record. Not what Hydra taught me. I think so far I like electric blue so far. I like neon a lot. Ummm...do ducks count as a favorite animal or do I have to find a mammal?"  
  
"The lease is six months, isn't it? So...do you think your father's debating on taking Steve up on his offer when it comes around? That'll be about nine months since you guys have been free and out...more or less, since he got you after the fact." Sam nodded with a hum, and then he laughed a bit, "Ducks count, I was talking the usual kind of pets people get to have in their homes. There's been a forever-debate on cats vs dogs, and I was only curious. Have you not encountered any other animals?"  
  
"I seen dogs at the park." Angelina blinked, "And I seen birds. But I got to pet a duck." She paused. "He hopes."  
  
"Hoping is all we can ask for right now, isn't it?" Sam smiled, and then leaned back in his chair, "Have you taken any pictures yet?"  
  
"I haven't found anything I wanted to log." Angelina looked at him shyly. "And it's a part of the projects I wanted to ask you about."  
  
"You've said that. I get it. Do you have scrapbook of your own? Or a printer? Or does Zan and Dylan have one you could use? In order to log it in a scrapbook, you gotta be able to print it out. You'll need tape, too, so it doesn't go anywhere." Sam listed.  
  
"Zan told me how to scrapbook it," Angelina frowned, "She gave me one of hers. She didn't use it and she thought it was better to give it to me. She's letting me borrow her photo printer thing too." She bit her lip and admitted, "I just...when Hydra told me to log things, they were...specific. How much time in the shower, how much time on the computer, how much time training. There was a..."how much" in the question. But with this..." she pointed at the camera. "There isn't anything specific to follow. And...it's scary? I'm not used to it. I don't want to take a wrong photo."  
  
"Honey, it's super easy! You're overthinking it!" Sam beamed at her and he picked up his orange juice, "Take a picture of me and this. When you put it in your scrapbook, you can log it as 'chat with Sam and I tried orange juice'. Just like that, boom."  
  
"That's it?" Angelina blinked, was it...really that simple? She opened the camera case and fumbled with the camera a bit, her hands shaking and her heart beating quickly as she turned it on. She carefully raised it to her eye. "Smile?" He smiled and she clicked the button. The flash went off, which surprised both of them, but the picture came out decently enough. "I took a picture." She said breathlessly.  
  
"Lemme see?" Sam took it when she handed it over and he grinned wide, "See? Look at that. Not too shabby for the first picture ever." He gave it back, "You got a super nice camera, too. I'm sure it's got tons of settings. You should spend a day doing just practice pictures that don't mean anything and you can delete just to see what they do. Like, nighttime photos, indoor and outdoor settings sort of thing. Right now, being on auto works fine."  
  
"There's another thing that I have a project for too." Angelina smiled a little. "This is where Uncle Steve said there's things you can't and can do..." She took a breath and let it out very slowly. "I want to know how to deal with crowds. But I have telepathy. That makes everyone's noise amplify by a thousand. It makes me really sick. So I can't go to malls...and other crowded places long."  
  
There was a long pause and he blinked at her, but he just took a breath and let it out slowly, "Okay. That's not the craziest thing I've heard since joining the Team. Telepathy's a hard case...there's a ton of movies and stuff about people who have it, but of course they're fake. They explore different angles about it, though. What I think needs to happen, is start small. Endurance is something everybody has to work for. Mentally and physically. Someone just starting out jogging in the mornings isn't going to get very far or go very long, but after a month that changes. I'm sure we can at least try and follow that basic principle."  
  
"What is small in a crowd?" Angelina asked, swallowing.  
  
"Well, a crowd is a large number of people gathered together. Steve's birthday party with just six or seven people was kind of a crowd, to us anyway. I know Banner tapped out after having some food. He doesn't like a lot of people either." Sam soothed, "The cafe is a crowd, but it's calm in the morning and then gets louder through the day. You could start there, if you wanted to. Go on a date with Dylan to some museums or the aquarium, places where you go on tours with a set number of people. You'd be distracted by things you see more than the people, I think."  
  
Angelina nodded, "So go where small crowds are...and get better to do big crowds." She smiled a little. "I can do that. Okay. Three hard questions. I owe you."  
  
"That's fine...though, I do want to say you should think of your scrapbook less like a log, and more like a memory keeper." Sam folded his hands together, "I've seen James write in his journal in the corner there, but that's where he's writing out past memories. This is something where you're keeping track of the new memories you have and the feelings you had during that time."  
  
"He reads me his stories and memories from the book," Angelina agreed, taking another drink from the glass with a small smile. "I like asking him about them. Sometimes  I can't, because it's a bad day, but sometimes when I have a bad day, he takes it out and tells me what he remembered. A lot of it is Uncle Steve. He doesn't remember his sisters well. He remembers Grandma Sarah just as well as Uncle Steve, and a little of Grandma Winifred, but...not my Aunties."  
  
"If he doesn't remember them, I'm certain your Uncle Steve would." Sam assured, "I'm sure those are good memories for him to think about. I don't think a lot of people really ask him about his 'before' very often."  
  
"He seemed very shocked I didn't know Captain America." Angelina agreed.  
  
"Haha, well, this gives you new things to think about, doesn't it?" Sam finally finished his juice and went to go wash it out and put it back, "If you'd like to, we can just go for a random car ride and you can take pictures to your heart's content?"  
  
"Going to cash in the three hard questions later?" Angelina smiled but nodded. "But the car ride would be _really_  fun!"  
  
"Then finish up and let's go!" Sam laughed, "Yes I am, and that's ok."  
  
"Okay!" Angelina cheered.


	12. Some Things Are Best Left in the Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life, forgetfulness, and sickness. That's why it's taken me a month to update :/ I'll make it up to you guys!

The cafe was their go-to, but Sam was feeling really chill after hanging around Angelina, so he invited Steve over to his apartment for dinner, "Hey, man, thanks for showin' up. I know how you eat, so I ordered, like, three pizzas. I also got several selections of movies for you to pick from."  
  
“Thanks.” Steve said, taking off his shoes since Sam liked keeping his carpet clean and he knew that he wanted him to be comfortable while going around in his house. He walked over to the kitchen with him and picked up a plate, passing it to him before taking the other one. “Are any of them on my list? Or are we just winging it now?”  
  
"Some might be on your list and the others are just ones that I wanted to see but couldn't decide." Sam laughed and led Steve the rest of the way in, "Also, soda. Only two bottles, though, since we both prefer juice, but you don't just eat pizza with juice, man."  
  
“I agree, orange juice and pizza doesn’t sound like the greatest combination,” Steve snorted. “Speaking of juice, Angelina texted me and told me that you showed her orange juice. She used a lot of exclamation points in it, so I’m guessing she was really excited.” He took a few pieces and went into the fridge to grab his soda. He was probably the only one that would drink Pepsi without irony. “It’s funny about what things get her going.”  
  
"She's really clueless, Steve. Things are being taken for granted or assumed. She has seen cats and dogs, but hasn't really interacted with them. She told me her favorite animal was a duck so far. Ducks are cool and all...but she told me she only really had a meat lover's pizza so far, and root beer. She drinks mostly tea." Sam rubbed his forehead, "There's just so much she doesn't know."  
  
Steve frowned deeply. Bucky probably had a clue. At the same time, how much of a clue did he have? Hydra clearly didn’t deserve the best parent award for keeping Angelina in the dark, but…surely Natasha had been in contact with other animals, other people, other things. She was grounded, a spy, so she needed to be. But Angelina wasn’t a spy, her arsenal didn’t have that. What did Hydra use her for then, if not a Widow, not a Soldier? Was she…just something that they could collect? A trophy? He took a bite of his pizza. “I knew that there were a lot of things she was deprived of.” He said, finally breaking the silence. “I didn’t know it was that bad. Do you think Bucky knows? Do you think I should text him and tell him?”  
  
"Oh, he knows. I think she knows to an extent, but not as much as she should. She's trying. They both are, and we talked about quite a few things. Namely her photography. Also crowds and how to deal with them. I mentioned the Tower, but I did and didn't suggest going there." Sam explained as he chose his own pizza and showed Steve his movie selection.  
  
Steve hummed as he looked over the titles. He felt a little better knowing that Bucky knew. "Do you think she'll go? Natasha's probably her best bet at getting to know the world. I don't know how Tony would handle her. He might go for it. Bruce and Clint are probably the ones that won't care unless something major happened..."  
  
"She might if she has enough encouragement." Sam agreed, "Nat would be a good person for advice, sure. Clint is sure to really like her. She's quite endearing. I thoroughly enjoyed my time with her, anyway." He grinned at him, "She really likes Dylan."  
  
Steve blinked and at first he was about to open his mouth to say that "of course she likes Dylan, she likes practically everyone" till he noticed Sam's grin. "Like....going steady?" He felt his stomach sink and his heart thud. "I don't know him," he said slowly, "and she's eighteen. She can make her own decisions. But after what you told me...I don't want to say this, I know how it's gonna sound, but...is she mentally prepared for that? Or is it like...a high school crush? A fast "fall in love for a week"?"  
  
"See, now that I don't know, but she sounded like she genuinely likes him and enjoys his company. From what we hear from Zan at the cafe all the time, they've been good for and to each other so far." Sam explained. "I have the same worries, but I also got faith in the girl."  
  
Steve shook his head from side to side, taking another few bites of his pizza when a sudden thought came to him and he started laughing. He knew he surprised Sam, so he swallowed and explained. "I just had this thought about Rebecca and Allison. They were Bucky's sisters...I wish they were alive, you would have gotten a kick out of Rebecca. She was our firecracker. She was Bucky's favorite sister. They were the ones who'd paint the town red. Allison was...well...she was my favorite sister. More introverted and...quiet. But god you didn't mess with her at _all_. You said something, you looked at someone wrong, and she was tearing you apart with words a lone. I started thinking about what they'd think of Angelina and...well...Rebecca would've adored her. Angelina has a lot of Becca's personality, but she has Allison's quirky curiosity. At least, from what I see from the texts and when I call her."  
  
"I dunno anything about that, but I'll take your word for it." Sam smiled at him, "I'm glad she's triggering happy thoughts for you. She did tell me that James can't remember her Aunts, but I told her se could always ask you for those memories."  
  
Bucky couldn't remember Allison or Becca? Steve knew that he had memory problems. He knew that there were things that were missing, but it just was....shocking to hear that even his sisters. His precious, most beloved people probably ranked higher than _Steve_ , were taken from him. "I guess that means he doesn't remember his mom...or his dad. Or my mom for that matter and she was...Bucky would say that she was practically his mother. He'd never put her my mom above his, but...we were both mama boys really. It wasn't anything to be ashamed of. I wish I knew that sooner." He felt a lump in his throat and he forced it down, swallowing it. Bucky didn't need his pity. "If Angelina wants those stories. I'll give them to her. I'll let her know in a text. I'll tell her to tell Bucky too. I can remember them for him."  
  
"There you go. I suggested coming to the cafe some more for smaller, quieter crowds. Museums and the aquarium with Dylan for tours that are small but focused on the task at hand instead of busy minds. If you think of any other good places where it's quiet but crowded, be sure to suggest that, too. When she's ready, you and I can talk to her about visiting the Tower." Sam patted his leg, "Pick a movie already!"  
  
Steve laughed and handed him one, "You get to put it in. Since it was your fault you distracted me."

* * *

Today was a lazy day. Zan was painting her nails on the coffee table, Dylan was reading some manga, laying flat on his stomach and sometimes poking his sister just to get her bothered while Angelina was sitting on the couch next to Zan's kneeling form. She had her laptop steady on her knees as she worked on the photos that she had taken with Sam's driving tour of New York City.  
  
A lot of people gave her looks for taking the photos. They didn't outright say anything, but the most common thought she heard was "fucking tourists". Of course, Sam laughed when she told him what the people were thinking.  
  
Staring at the pictures and trying to fix them up using photoshop was a chore in it's own right, but she liked seeing what she can and can't do. Basics before going to the more advanced. It was really fun for her and she could see why people chose digital over film and other hard copies. The things that you could do.  
  
But it was exactly that freedom that made Angelina nervous. Yes, the photos were perfect. Yes, she took photos of everything that she wanted to log. But her fingers itched for the pen and paper. How much time did she spend in a car? (they wouldn't really _ask_  her that, but sometimes they liked giving her random things to log. They liked her "organization" skills.) how much time did she spend on the laptop? How many photos did she take?  
  
_You don't control anything._  
  
_How long do you think it'll be till they ask you to come home?_  
  
_Home is where the heart is._  
  
_Soaked in blood and ruthless misery._  
  
She set her laptop down on the coffee table and wrapped her legs up to her chin. She saw Zan move in the corner of her eye.  
  
_Go home._  
  
_Stay._  
  
_Hydra forgives those who ask for it._  
  
_Stay. He's here._  
  
_You don't have to run anymore._  
  
_There was never a point to it to begin with._  
  
She felt someone's hands on her wrists. She didn't realize that she had covered her ears. She couldn't focus on who was in front of her though. The room didn't make sense. She both recognized it as an apartment and Hydra's facility.  
  
There was a shadow in front of her.

Dylan had noticed Angel move before Zan did, looking up while she was in the motion of putting her computer down. He was putting his manga aside and getting up as she curled in on herself. Before he went to her, though, he glanced around for the notebook he kept around for writing notes from anime they watched, what she liked and didn't like and the whys, which became his arsenal for finding similar ones. Grabbing it, he finally knelt in front of her when Zan gripped her wrists as Angelina put her hands over her ears.  
  
Finding a fresh page, he paused. What could he say? She was too engrosed in her own mind with her eyes tightly shut to read him. He couldn't falter like this...not when she needed him, but what did he do? Swallowing thickly, he steeled himself.  
  
"Angelina. Give me your hand. Now."  
  
Oh god. He hated the sound of his voice. He was demanding and rough. His posture had straightened to match the voice as well, his face set firmly, brown eyes unmoving as she snapped her head up. Even Zan looked shocked, but it was a tone all of them could recognize as a military bark.

Angelina obeyed without question and with swiftness. She held her hand out. A part of her feared what he was going to do. He could pull up on her, force her to walk somewhere, go to a place she never wanted to go again.  
  
_A cell with a person._  
_A person screaming help me._  
_A person silently glaring, daring to do their worse._  
_Every single one of them helpful. Kind even._  
_They always got a pretty ending, didn't they?_  
_They could've gotten better._  
_Screaming, screaming, screaming._  
  
_Do you even know that's your own thoughts?_  
  
"Dylan, she's scared. We need to talk to James..." Zan said softly, looking at her brother worriedly. Their father would sometimes have that type of tone when he was angry or upset. Of course Dylan picked it up...but she really hoped that it wouldn't hurt Angelina.  
  
Honestly, niether of them knew what she gone through. Just pieces...and Zan didn't want whatever plan Dylan had to get her back to them, to go awry.

The only thing Dylan did was place the pencil that had been on the notebook and then the notebook in her lap. She was lost. That was exactly what this was, and Dylan had acted without really thinking, but he realized that he knew that was what she needed. "Log." He pointed at the paper. She was looking at him without seeing him, so he added, "I'm missing your times. Log them for me."

"Dylan," Zan hissed.  
  
Angelina on the other hand, took the pencil and started writing. She filled one page, started another as fast as she could, until she slowly started to figure out what it was that she was doing. The times were not Hydra based. They wouldn't let her do half of the things that she was logging. They wouldn't let her see Sam, who was becoming a friend. They wouldn't let her visit Steve, on the random times that he could see her. They didn't let her hang out with Dylan and Zan who were watching her, Dylan with a more stoic look, and Zan looking ready to bolt out of the apartment to find her dad.  
  
She was home.  
  
She wasn't at the base. She didn't have to kill anyone. She didn't have to pretend to be their friends. She wasn't the database, she didn't have to log if she didn't want to. She slowly started to stop her writing, and looked at the times that she wrote. She went as far back as she could remember last logging, which honestly wasn't too far. She still logged here and there, technically with the scrapbook.  
  
But it wasn't like this. It made her stomach tie in knots to see where she was in her head. She remembered the dates, the time...  
  
This was not home.  
  
"He doesn't want me to log time." Angelina said after a moment of silence. "He doesn't like it."

"Your father is defiant." Dylan's words were half normal, half clipped Military. He shooed Zan from her place and sat down beside Angelina instead, his hand covering hers that was holding the notebook. "He had to be _brainwashed_  to follow their orders. Now that he's free, he's trying to get rid of what they did to him, what they made him do. You lived and breathed it." He swiped her bangs from her eyes, "Babe..." he whispered softly, "If it makes you feel better to log times, then you can do it here. We won't say anything. I...I hate saying it, but there's no compromise on this one. Let him believe you're not logging your times anymore. It'll make him feel better, but it will help you if you can do this _and_  scrap-booking."

Angelina's eyes watered and she carefully placed her notebook down on the table and looked at him, "Can I hug you?" She asked, her voice breaking in parts. Zan watched as Dylan nodded and opened his arms for her. Angelina pulled her legs on the couch and laid down on Dylan's lap, hugging him around the middle. She hid her face in his stomach and started crying into it. Zan pursed her lips, but knew her brother was right. There wasn't a compromise for this.  
  
James had a reason to defy Hydra.  
  
What on earth did Angelina have against them? She lived and breathed it, just like Dylan said. It was a miracle in itself that she followed her father rather than stay behind to do whatever Hydra bid her to do. Angelina was learning so much, and going so far.  
  
She crossed her heart when Dylan looked at her. She knew he knew that she was promising him to watch over her with the time logs. To make this a safe haven.

It'd been a group decision to have Angelina over for the night, but when she was fast asleep in Dylan's bed, is blankets curled around her face as she breathed his scent, Dylan's heart broke again. He went to Zan's room and his lip was quivering when she looked at him. It was hard to not burst into tears when it was his turn for a hug. "I'm trying..." he murmured into her shoulder. She would be the last person to question his resolve, and he knew going in that it would be hard. "I gotta remind myself we've barely known each other a month...let alone been together for like, two weeks."

"You love her." Zan murmured, "and it hurts to see her hurting like this." She rubbed her hand up and down his back, holding him tightly. "You did so good though. I was scared for a moment that what you were doing was going to hurt her, but you saw what she needed. You knew that she needed to do both the scrapbook and the time logs. You were able to give her what she needed Dylan. You saw it, you honed in on it, and you told her to do it. You told her there's no shame here. She needed to hear that. I'm so proud of you."

"The funny part is I didn't even realize what I was doing right away." Dylan choked on a laugh as he sniffed, "I know now that...I can't always be the gentle, laid-back guy. Sometimes she needs the stability of someone telling her what to do. It's hard...I didn't like doing it, but I'll do what I have to do. I want her to be happy, to be comfortable. Slow and steady wins the race, right?"

"Think of her like the vets I sometimes sit with. Sometimes, they just need a bit of direction. Sam told me once that a Vet usually responds well to a simple command. Tie your shoes, get in bed, that time of thing. You did the right thing, Sam would agree." Zan said softly, pulling away so that she could wipe her brother's tears. "Slow and steady does win the race. So does love and understanding. Sometimes you do have to be tough, but you know what? Sometimes you have to be tough...because Angelina's probably tired of being tough. We forget that underneath her smiles, and scars, she was raised to be a straight-laced person. We forget that she probably second-guesses herself at every turn, at every corner. Sometimes, we might have to tell her which way to turn. We're not gonna like it...but she needs a guide post. Not a light."

"Something solid and real." Dylan nodded and leaned in to kiss his sister's forehead. If he was going to do this with Angel for real, then he had to be willing to do all of this and more. Vets could be dangerous...Zan knew that from personal experience. He knew that as well. Yet... "I don't really know what I was doing with my life before she walked into it. I know you feel the same about James, let alone Steve and Sam. So, we do what we can for them both." Hugging her again, he finally pulled away, "Love ya, sis. I'm going to go pass out now. I think after that we all deserve a good rest."  
  
"Good night, Dylan." Zan smiled warmly, "She's good for you, don't doubt that yet." She let her brother go and flopped down on her own bed with a loud sigh.  
  
What a night.

* * *

"I'm going out with Dyl-Dal!" Angelina's happy chirp reached his ears before she reached him physically. They shared a deep hug and he barely managed a 'goodbye' before she was out the door.  
  
James just watched the doorway for a time, towel still wrapped around the cup in his hand. His chest hurt. It was so quiet in the apartment besides his own breathing. Looking down at the cup, he brushed his hair from his face and finished what he was doing.  
  
This feeling. He knew what it was. Easily and quickly 'identified' as _loneliness_. The longer he spent in the quiet, he could hear the hum of the electronics. The whirring brrrr of the AC. There was just...so /little/ to focus on. He read most of the time, cleaned his gun, kept maintenance on his arm, practiced his speed for unloading and loading his guns and taking them apart and putting them back together. When he didn't want to do those things, what else was there? He didn't watch Netflix really on the TV as much on his own, because it was more enjoyable with his daughter making her faces and her commentary. Why things did or didn't make sense. If characters were dumb and plotlines stupid.  
  
What...else _was_  there? It was getting close to August. All of the hype from his destruction in Washington had died down significantly. He could leave...go out...but what would he do? Where would he go? Stalk the Avenger Tower, tease himself with possible contact and ultimately walk away without seeing Steve?  
  
The mere thought of seeing Steve made his heart race and James scrubbed his hand over his face. His breathing became raged and he tried to calm down, going to the couch to sit.  
  
His daughter was happy. The rough nights had lessened for her, and that made him happy. It really did. It was...difficult, though. A part of him wanted to acknowledge what he felt deep inside, but he just shoved it back again. There wasn't any _time_  to mope around, and yet there was too _much_  time.  
  
So James stood up and threw on his jacket and cap along with his glove. Making sure all the lights were off, he scribbled a note on the whiteboard on the fridge that he went out for a walk. The only thing he took with him was a bottled water for the hot summer day. There was no destination in mind...just a walk around the block, maybe to the convenience store...but he didn't get very far at all.  
  
The stairs going up, a man wearing rainbow arm covers, black slacks and a black t-shirt was breathing heavily, just a couple of bags at his feet. He was older...as old as he was probably supposed to be, if he'd lived life normally instead of being frozen. Yet with how colorful he was, he sure as heck didn't look like it at first glance. The rainbow beanie didn't help.  
  
"Hey there, stranger." The old man said kindly, adjusting his beanie. Bucky noticed that he had long silver hair that was wiry and thin, tied in a ponytail that reached the edge of his shoulders. "You look like a guitar man or a drums person, but I'm goin' to go with guitar. You look very soulful. Going on a walk?"  
  
James put his bottle in is pocket and leaned down, gathering up the bags easily, "I had been planning on it, but I can help you with these. Don't older people usually have an apartment on the first floor? What are you doing on the third?"  
  
"Thank you," The man said graciously and started walking up the stairs with him. "I don't need a walker yet or a wheelchair. Until I need one of those, I'll climb the stairs. My balance isn't shot yet. I'm still going strong at ninety. Besides, if I did get a walker, Steve would be very upset. He can't handle another one of us dying on him any time soon, and if I so much as cough in his direction, I'm smothered to death with soup, blankets and prayers. Well...no...can't say that anymore. He abandoned that practice a long time ago. Probably after your death."  
  
"I...what?" James was stiff as they stood in the hallway while the man fiddled with his pockets to unlock the door, "After...my death?" The unasked question was that this man knew him. It was unnerving. He even had his cap on. "Who are you to Steve?"  
  
"A friend." The man said with a shrug. "Someone that listens to him when he needs it. Poor guy doesn't have anyone he knows that's still alive and kicking and we were friends for a bit. Well, acquaintances I guess is the better term. He only knew me for a short period, but he's determined to make that up. I'm at this door." He unlocked it and carefully swung it open. "You're welcome to come inside. It's sparse, I don't have much, but it's plenty for me."  
  
Should he? He apparently knew who he was...he knew Steve as well. Could he be a mission assist? Nodding, he shifted the bags and walked inside. He put everything on the counters and helped put things away, even. When that was done, he glanced out the window. The old man could see a lot of things from here at least. Turning back around he watched him carefully, "Could I get a name, at least? You seem to already know mine."  
  
"Nicolas Kelly. My friends called me Nicky. It was my wife's fault really, she started it." Nicky smiled, the corner of his eyes crinkling. "I know a lot about you. My wife..." he trailed off. "Well. If you wanted me to confirm something in your memory, I'm probably...the second person to talk to. The primary person should be Steve, but he told me you were shy talking to him. Though maybe shy isn't the right word. Cautious sounds about right. Thank you for putting my things away, you didn't have to do that by the way."  
  
"The weather is hot. You probably need to rest, and I hadn't even left the building so I'm fine." James folded his arms, though took off his hat. He had to brush his hair behind his ears again, but he was curious as he watched Nicolas. "The second person, huh? I must've known her...your wife. Your name does sound familiar. Kelly...a Hotel business. Quite popular, I think it was. I don't remember much else, that's just what came to mind." He carefully moved to a free chair while the older gentleman sat on the couch, "I'm more than cautious about talking to Steve, but it's close enough."  
  
Nicky nodded solemnly, "You knew my wife. You..." he paused. "You were good to her. So good to her. She was the one most upset when you were drafted into the army. She hated that they were forcing you to go. She used to cry to me, and tell me over and over again that they were going to turn you into something that you weren't. You loved her. Very much." Nicky sat walked away into the restroom before coming out with a black hair tie and sat down on the couch near to the chair Bucky was in. "You need this for this kind of weather. It's a hair tie. It'll keep your hair from making your face it's home."  
  
"There are...few women I remember from the past." James took the hair tie and he had to re-do it a couple times because it was crooked, but he eventually got it right. There wasn't much he could do about his bangs, but it was good enough. He wouldn't be going to a salon anytime soon. "My mother...and my two sisters, Rebecca and Allison. It's very faint. I'm lucky I remember names. Rebecca is the most prominent, strangely, rather than my own mother."  
  
"Becca was your favorite sister. You were closer to her with age. You did more things with her, you two were hardly ever apart from one another. Winifred would joke that she birthed twins when you guys were only two years apart. Ally came along at four years apart." Nicky mused causally, leaning back against the couch. "Becca was your confident. She knew your deepest darkest secrets. Though she did occasionally try to black mail you. You did the same so you guys were always at a stall when that happened."  
  
That drew a soft chuckled out of James, and he leaned forward in the chair, "It's strange, but I can sometimes feel if a memory is off. What you just said doesn't sound like it. Angelina...my daughter, she enjoys what little stories I have about her Aunt Rebecca." He nodded, "I am...going to go out on a limb, and say since you know about me and my sisters so...intimately, that Allison was your wife? You say her name with such a soft tone, different than how you say Rebecca's."  
  
"Allison was my wife," Nicky agreed softly. "Ally." He smiled sadly, "Becca and William married almost immediately after they met. But, Allison and I...we wanted to wait till you and Steve got back. When that didn't happen, we waited a year before we married. Becca named her son after you, James. I called him J.J, he got annoyed with me when he was a teen. At least till he went through history class. Then he started appreciating it more. Grant always loved his name. It was his mother's favorite person."  
  
James swallowed, but he nodded slowly, Grant and James. Grant...that was Steve's middle name, wasn't it? Of course, James is the name he was going by now. "The..." He paused. He couldn't speak like he did to Angel to this man. "Bucky...makes Steve sad." He said this because he remembered he didn't like this name. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to use the other one.  
  
"Why do you say that?" Nicky asked carefully, looking at him. "Why do you think Bucky makes Steve sad?"  
  
"Lot's of reasons..." James swallowed thickly. "He...lost me. Multiple times...Lost me to the war. He didn't know I was drafted, I couldn't tell him. Came back, I was a Sargent, left again...then learned I was captured. He saved me, but I wasn't the same person. We fought side by side...then I fell. Now...I can't. I can't contact him. You know what happened in D.C."  
  
"Is it out of guilt or do you think he's disappointed in you?" Nicky questioned back. "Better question. Do you think everything you said, was your fault?"  
  
"Probably not...but I..." James' throat tightened, "The only thing Bucky causes is pain. I don't want to make him sad, or cause him pain." That was why he used his traditional first name. If he was a different person he could have a fresh start. Yet he still couldn't contact him. Wasn't he causing him pain by doing that? Making him sad every time he said no? James gripped his head and breathed heavy.  
  
Nicky nodded his head, "That's a part of living. To live you have to hurt someone and you have to heal someone. Hurting someone can be unintentional or intentional it doesn't matter. It's life. You will hurt someone, no matter how much you strive not to do it. You have a daughter. Let me ask you this, are there times where she has said something or done something that caused you pain?"  
  
"Yes..." The biggest thing were the time logs, but he didn't want to mention that. "I think I hurt her, too...without meaning to..." he murmured, "We both do our best with what we've been given. Sometimes we don't know how to act."  
  
"But would you say, because of what you do to hurt Angelina or what Angelina does to hurt you, you're only made of pain or that she's made of pain? That Angelina doesn't bring you joy? That you don't bring joy to her?" Nicky continued, a little relentless.  
  
"No...no, I wouldn't say that. She does make me happy...and i would hope I make her happy..." James shook his head, "Not contacting Steve because I hurt him isn't a good enough reason...is that what you're saying?"  
  
"You hit the nail on the head," Nicky nodded his head. "If you don't want to go by Bucky anymore, that's one thing. There's traditions where you cast off the name of the past, gain a new name for hopes a better future. He'd respect that. But you can't say, "I don't want to be around you, even though I want to, because it causes you pain" when you not being around them causes them more pain and causes pain to yourself. You're not benefiting yourself."  
  
James was quiet for a bit as he let his words sink in. How selfish and unfair was he being? How much pain was he bringing Steve by being like this? "I just...don't know...what to do..." he admitted quietly.  
  
"I think, you need to discover who James is...and if you want to be James or if you liked Bucky. You know Bucky even with the holes in your mind. But James is new. James is after Hydra. So. Let's start there." Nicky smiled warmly. "Do you have any hobbies?"  
  
"No...not really. You mentioned I looked like a guitar guy?" James tilted his head at him, "Did I used to play one?"  
  
"No." Nicky shook his head, "you were busy learning how to dance. But I used to teach music back when I was raising Grant. I taught music and I worked all night shifts I could. I taught high school, elementary school, freelance as well."  
  
"I could...try. I don't see why not. It would give me something to do when Angelina is out...that is what I was gunna do today. I couldn't stand the quiet." James shook his head, "If you don't mind one last student, that is. I'm pretty quick, though."  
  
Nicky smiled warmly, "One last student." He shook his head from side to side. "It's been three decades since I last taught...so you'll be both my new and my last. I don't think I have the energy, nor the strength, to teach another. Though life may throw me a curveball. I got my brother-in-law back, and apparently I have a young niece I get to spoil before I pass."  
  
"You better, or Ally will be disappointed in you for not having stories to share about her brother's family." James smiled at him and reached out to shake hands, sealing the deal. He felt like pieces were falling into place, and he didn't feel so terrified anymore.

* * *

He woke up with cold sweat beading at his forehead and sticking to his night clothes. He bed felt too wet and hot to stay in and he shoved the blankets off of him, shivering as he did. He turned on his lamp, not wanting to see the memory of the nightmare linger in the shadows anymore. His breathing was still ragged, like he was having an asthma attack he hadn’t had since the serum. His heart was pounding so fast, he was surprised he didn’t go into cardiac arrest.  
  
It was so real. It felt so real. He had been put in the Chair that Bucky had been tortured in constantly. He didn’t know what the pain would feel like, but he had a feeling he was about to find out. He was pushed into it by Bucky, who was staring at him with cold, dead eyes. His mask over the lower part of his face and his metal arm gripping Steve so that he couldn’t get away.  
  
_“Every bit of this, you deserve.”_  
  
The dream only changed from there. Only, into a worse nightmare. A nightmare where he was on the train, and he was trying to grab onto Bucky’s hand.  
  
Instead of grabbing his hand, instead of Bucky jumping in a desperate attempt to get to him. Instead of him jumping down and breaking the rail prematurely, it was the fall. As it was. The railing broke as Bucky tried to reach for his hand and when he fell, Steve could hear the words screamed at him.  
  
_“Save me. Stevie!”_  
  
It still echoed now, sitting on the edge of his bed and gripping his head trying to get rid of the voice. He needed to do…something. He stood up and went to his dresser to change out of his pajyamas. He needed to wear something a little more grounding right now; boxers and a shirt wasn’t going to cut it. Once he changed into something that had less sweat and a bad nightmare clinging to the cloth, he went to the restroom that was attached to his bedroom and quickly threw some water on his face.  
  
Tea with honey and milk. It sounded pretty decent to him and not a bad way to recover. He walked back to his room and grabbed his phone to check the time.  
  
It was two o’ clock in the morning. Two text messages were on his phone. He winced, he bet it was from this afternoon. He still didn’t have the habit of carrying with it everywhere with him. After he checked those, he should text Angelina. See if she was up. God knows that girl’s sleep schedule was more random than the lottery tickets that were always called out practically everyday or so. He could never keep up.  
  
He walked into his living room, the lights turning on automatically thanks to Tony’s invention of motion sensor lights. He went to the kitchen, and started looking for the kettle. Peggy would kill him from her grave he made tea in any other way. He put the water on the stove, got the supplies down, and then leaned against the island counter, checking his messages.  
  
The first one was from Nicky in the afternoon.  
  
**/Met with James today. He’s a good fella. I know you want to meet him, but let him come to you Steve. That kid doesn’t know who he is yet. It’s not fair to introduce you when he doesn’t even have a name he feels confident enough to give you./**  
  
Steve swore up and down that Nicky was the Flower Child the Seventies needed. He didn’t remember Nicolas being this grounded when they were growing up.  
  
It made him wonder if Bucky knew about Allison. He decided not to go down that particular rabbit hole right now. His nightmares were already terrifying enough, he didn’t think he could add a sad dream to the mix without having an emotional crisis.  
  
There was a text…from Bucky.

It was a short and sweet text. Straight to the point. / **Do you want a running partner tomorrow?** /  
  
Steve couldn't help the grin that crossed his face. Whatever Nicky did, Steve was going to have to thank him. Profusely. He quickly typed it back. / **I'd love to beat someone that can run my speed.** /  
  
/ **Don't get cocky. I'm not Flying Sam.** / The text back was immediate. / **No talking. I'll join you during the run, not before.** / A pause, the dots that said he was tapping at his phone keyboard starting and stopping, before, / **Are these terms...ok...?** /  
  
Steve felt his heart swell and break a little and the kettle went off exactly at that moment. He had to put the phone to the side for a moment so that he could take the kettle off and pour it into the cup with the tea bag in it. Now that it was seeping, he could get back to texting. / **More than okay. You do things on your own terms, Buck. Do you mind if we keep texting?** /  
  
/ **If you say something and I don't reply to it, just say something else. I might not know HOW to reply, not that it upsets me. OK?** / he responded for his way of agreeing.  
  
/ **That's fine.** / Steve texted, looking at the cup of tea. / **I was about to text Angelina, see if she was up, but I miss talking to you. Bad night tonight, that's all.** /  
  
/ **Oh. So that's how it is. Start right with the curve-ball.** / A pause. then a frowny-face, / **Angel is having a sleepover. Things didn't sound good on her end, but I don't know what happened. Today just sucked for all of us, I think, until I found Nick.** /  
  
Steve clicked his tongue. / **Three Musketeers of bad nights, then.** / He hit sent and he started fixing his tea once he threw out the tea bag. He brought it along with his cellphone to the couch and sipped on it as he quickly continued typing. / **How was Nick?** /

/ **Nick...it's vague, but I remember him. I remember the Kelly hotel more. He was pretty insightful...and as you can see, opened my eyes to some things I was being stupid about.** / After another moment another message popped up, / **He was doing alright, though. I helped him carry bags to his apartment. That was how we met.** /  
  
/ **Yeah, Nicky's gotten more clever through time. Though I think it's because of Ally's passing really.** / Steve paused, wondering if that was too much. It probably was. / **I keep telling him to move to the first floor. Stubborn.** /  
  
/ **I asked him that. He said he wouldn't until he's using a walker or a wheelchair. I think he'll die before that, though. Honestly, it sounds like he fit with my family just fine. His new goal is to meet Angel.** /  
  
/ **I'd be okay with any influence he has on her. He's the good kind of family. If he can give me a verbal slap in the face to see reason, then just think what advice he could give for her.** / The text sounded rather impressed. / **I...would be okay if you came to the apartment. If you visit him, or Zan, and want to see Angel. Just not with me here. Not yet./ A quick bout of silence and then he added, /I just want you to see how far we've come in such a short time.** /  
  
/ **I swear he got that from Ally.** / Steve sent laughing as he took another sip of tea. He typed another message. / **Angel's bragged about how clean your apartment is and how much _stuff_  Dylan and Zan have in theirs. I think she wants to see me go into both. I haven't yet.**/  
  
/ **You need to do more with her./** If he could shake his finger through the phone, it sounded like he would. / **You don't know how important you are for her. I haven't asked you, but I will. You will probably cry.** /  
  
Steve leaned back, feeling guilty. Bucky was right, he needed to do more. Angelina was his niece in some fashion, and Sam was already someone that frequently got texts from her about one thing or another. He never told him what they talked about, which was fine. Angelina needed her privacy. / **You're right.** / He sent, taking another sip. / **I do need to do more. I'll think of something we can do. I know that she's busy with Dylan. Maybe getting to know him will be the right thing to do.** /  
  
/ **That would mean a lot to her.** / James agreed, / **He likes pizza?** / He offered lamely. / **Have I...** / It sounded like he was struggling as the text took longer than it should. / **Did this...make you happy?** /  
  
/ **This made me very happy.** / Steve smiled as he texted back. / **Talking to you was always a highlight. We were very close when we were kids. We were hardly apart for anything. Save dances. And the dates you tried to set me up on. I really hated that, but you just...didn't like me being alone. I understood that.** /  
  
There was quite a long time before James responded. So much so that It almost felt awkward. He finally did, though. / **I won't leave you alone too much longer. This is a big jump, though. One step at a time.** /  
  
/ **I'm fine at whatever pace you set.** / Steve assured. / **You're probably really tired, you and Angel had a long day it seems like. I'll see you on the run. I'll hang with Angel and Dylan soon. Promise.** /  
  
/ **See you.** / James promised back, and it was radio silence after that.


	13. Tower Fun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We actually get to see some of the others in this chapter!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> check back to this later. is2g. The bolded line you'll find at the beginning needs to be edited but this was sitting here all day waiting and I wanted to post it SO HERE!
> 
> Some things I feel like addressing due to recent comments - I get e-mail notifications when I get replies, so I will respond promptly within a day or two so if you'd like to get a hold of me, due to no PM system on Ao3 as of rn, feel free to drop me something! 
> 
> There's hints and cues for Stucky but there will be a set of 3 OCs we jokingly call "the Witches 3" because they all got powers thanks to Hydra sort of thing. That is far in the future atm. If you are the type that doesn't like the fact Steve and Bucky will be getting women, I will put a notice in the exact chapter it happens that way you are prepared. For now, just enjoy them as they are.

Steve took on Bucky's advice about meeting Dylan at the pizza place. It wasn't too loud, and he was dressed in casual clothes and hardly anyone recognized him. Which was more than he could say for when he was in costume. They had two pizzas in front of them, a Hawaiian and a Supreme along with a couple of dressings just in case they felt like being adventurous and trying it with ranch. Steve was also both kind of thankful Angelina wasn't there, and also kind of wishing that she was. "So...uh..." God conversation was hard. He wasn't even sure how Bucky was his friend besides getting his face punched. "Do you go to school at all?" So lame...  
  
"Would you hate me if I said that was adorable?" Dylan looked like he was trying very hard not to laugh, "I don't go to College, no. Zan does, however." He watched him as he took a drink of his soda, "What are you so nervous about?"  
  
"I don't know," Steve shook his head from side to side. "I know that you're really important to Angelina, and I know that she really adores you too. She texts me sometimes, and sends me photos before she prints them off. So, I guess I'm just worried about making a bad impression. You two are really serious about each other. I know Zan goes to college, is she still trying to figure out her major?"  
  
"Yeah. So many choices and yet nothing's really struck her fancy. She was debating psychology for a while, then realized she couldn't stand listening to other people's problems day in and day out. That'd really drag you down." Dylan shrugged. "I don't think you could make a bad impression on anybody, Steve. Even bad guys have a certain respect for you, wouldn't you say?"  
  
"They respect Captain America." Steve pointed out as he took another piece of Hawaiian pizza and set it on his plate. "Steve Rogers is a whole other story. They wouldn't really care." He shook his head. "She seems happy at the cafe, though I know she's itching to do more. I can't blame her about the psychology. She does too much as a Vet Protector."  
  
"You make Captain America who he is." Dylan countered fiercely, "You are you. You aren't some unrelateable superhero who's got not substance. Yeah, there's the whole 'leave work at work' but you're separating yourself into two different people. That's unhealthy in it's own right, you know that? Sure, you put on your suit and you get all serious and crap, but take it off, you still got your brains, undying loyalty and sense of justice. What changes is you just want to be left the fuck alone, but you're still gunna punch some douchebag if he's being mean to a lady or something."  
  
****"That is true." Steve nodded as he took his pizza and took a bite of it.****  
  
  
"You work at a LAN center right? Have you thought about getting certified to do computers?"**  
  
"I've played around with coding and stuff." Dylan hummed, "If I'm not doing laser-tag then I'm usually the one they call on when things go down or buggy and they need help fixing it. I never really thought of doing it professionally."  
  
"I know Angelina's really good with computers. I've been wondering if I should ask Bucky if she has a G.E.D or something from Russia and try to get her into any computer courses at the college. Or...if she'd even...like to go. I think she might like it, but...I know that people and new situations stress her out too." Steve sighed as he took a drink of his coke and set it to the side. "Of course it's always up to her. I just know that she's always wanting to know more...but there's only so much a few of us can do...that a school can probably do more."  
  
"It's something to suggest. The repetitive nature of it might be something that wouldn't be too stressful. She'd own all the homework they give her, too. She watches Zan do hers from time to time," Dylan agreed.  
  
"It is a routine." Steve knew, from mostly talking to Sam, that Angelina and Bucky were a little bit glued to the idea of a routine. Things were easy to remember, time logs didn't have to be filled out as often, and Bucky liked the simplicity of it. "I know she likes that. When I find out about Angelina's education level and what not, do you think you could help me try to find G.E.D courses or even some online or physical classes she could take at a community college? I know a lot on how to work a computer, but you two have more of an in than I do. Zan especially. I owe her way too much."  
  
"I've heard." Dylan nodded, "I can talk to her and find out what she thinks, and Zan can find out what she can for upcoming classes this Autumn. It's August so we only got a short window. Until crowds aren't so bad, online courses will be fine and only go in when she has to."  
  
Steve nodded, "That sounds like a plan. We'll take it slow. I know a lot of colleges have a winter semester and a spring besides the fall, if we miss a window, it won't be too bad. We still have other methods."  
  
"True enough. Awesome." Dylan smiled, "Anything else you wanna talk about?"  
  
"Just..." Steve pursed his lips together and looked at Dylan. He shook his head with a soft smile after some thought. "Not now, but....when I hang out with Angelina more...I might ask you a question. Until then, let's finish the pizza."

* * *

"Angelina, I wanted to tell you something." James smiled as he watched his daughter make tea.  
  
Angelina froze as she was pouring the water over the tea bag and looked over her shoulder. She couldn't figure out what it was that he wanted to tell her, since he was thinking about the book that he was reading, and what her reaction was going to be. "Oh...kay."  
  
"I met someone you Aunt Ally was close to. Her husband. He lives on the third floor." James bookmarked his place and stood up.  
  
"Aunt...Ally?" Angelina's eyes lit up. "She has a husband? He's alive still? He's on the third floor?" She nearly split the hot water from the kettle as she spoke and she winced as she quickly finished pouring the tea into the cup. "What is he like?"  
  
James laughed, "He's a fun old man. Colorful and bright. He was able to help me out...in more ways than one. For one thing, he offered to show me how to play guitar, since I haven't done that before."  
  
Angelina smiled warmly, "Zan plays guitar from time to time. She told me before she started working at the cafe, she was a street performer. She likes to sing. I'm glad you're doing more things. I was worried. You were upset when I left."  
  
"I was...but he made me feel better. The other thing I wanted to mention was..." He shifted a bit, looking a bit shy, but there was a small smile on his face, "I sort of made contact. In a good way this time. I texted Steve last night while you were having your sleepover and we talked for a while...then this morning I went for a run with him, but we didn't talk face to face."  
  
"Uncle Steve is probably really happy," Angelina grinned as she sipped her tea and leaned against the counter. "Dylan told me that he wanted to be taken out for a lunch. I guess he wanted to celebrate or something. Is the mission coming to a close then?"  
  
"Mission Protect is an ongoing mission...but I think I'm getting closer." James agreed, "I wanted to know what you thought about going to the Avenger Tower?"  
  
Angelina's eyes widened and then her face fell. She took another sip of her tea. "I don't know." She admitted after a moment. She walked over to the bar part of the kitchen and sat down on the stool. She looked around the apartment that they had gotten for their six month lease. "I like Uncle Steve. I like Sam. Are you asking me to visit or...live?"  
  
"Both? Visit first, check it out, how everyone is and how they treat you...Just be careful of Fury. If he comes by, I would suggest going to Tony. It's his building." James told her carefully, "We're staying here until our time is up. I'm firm on that, unless something drastic happens. Okay? This is just to test the waters."  
  
"What happens after time goes away?" Angelina's eyebrows furrowed. "Do we leave somewhere else or is that the Tower?"  
  
"We could renew it, if we're able." James nodded with a hum, "If things work out, then the Tower is where we would go, yes. If you do not want to, then we can stay, too."  
  
Angelina bit her lower lip. This was going to be a hard decision. She nodded her head a few times. "I'll visit first. Then we decide on moving. Right now, I want to stay."  
  
"Of course, fetiță." James got over to her and kissed her forehead, "I love you. I'm sure things will be fine. You'll have Uncle Steve, too, right there with you. Natalia should be there, and I've told you a lot about her."  
  
Angelina hugged her father tightly. He was really hopeful that she would go to the tower. She didn't know why he was hoping so much. Probably because of Uncle Steve, but she didn't know if the Tower would be home or not. There was only one way to find out. She would have to ask Dylan to come with her.

* * *

Angelina stared up at the tall skyscraper. It strained her neck and she still couldn't see what the top floor might look like. There was so many floors, and she knew that everyone in the tower had their own personal floor, and then the lower floors were for workers. She was aware that there were a bunch of labs that were strewn about as well. She didn't talk to J.A.R.V.I.S, but her father did say that the building said it was alright for her to come in. That it'd let her through the doors.  
  
Going through the doors, she noticed that it was styled in a very...modern way. The tiled floor was polished so well the light could reflect. There was a coffee shop that had a few people inside, a lot of them with laptops but most of them with ceramic cups that they drank from. Some were tall, some were short and fat, it was like bar-tending. Only with coffee cups. The security desk was in the middle of the floor. There were about three of them, and there were small machines that you were supposed to put your I.D or staff card in or something and the computer pulled them up.

Angelina didn't have anything like that, so how was J.A.R.V.I.S going to get her through security? She could probably sneak by, but her father told her to do things the _right_  way.  
  
"Hey." Angelina jumped and placed a hand on her heart. Steve looked torn between amused and shocked. "Sorry. I thought you saw me in the coffee shop. J.A.R.V.I.S told me that you were coming by and I knew you didn't have a way to get through security."  
  
"Oh." Angelina gasped trying to steady her breathing. She was so glad that she didn't carry her knife. Killing her uncle would be so bad it wouldn't even be on HYDRA's list. "I noticed the cups. I didn't see you."  
  
"Nat would be pleased. You'd like her." Steve grinned placing a hand on her shoulder. She leaned a little into the touch. Steve was starting to become a lot braver in touching her, it was really nice. "Bucky told me that you might do well with someone that went through the same things you did...but I think you might go well with Clint, too. So I asked them if they wanted to hang out today. Tony's super fast and Bruce is pretty calming when he's not upset. You might like them...but I thought it was better safe than sorry and bring you people you might be able to relate to."  
  
"Agents." Angelina nodded, "Good choice. Tată says the same thing about Nat. He calls her little spider. I don't like spiders all that much, but he remembers her more than he does his family. I hear a bunch of things."  
  
"So let's go up." Steve grinned though wondered a bit about that. Nat certainly seemed to know more than she let on. But now wasn't the time to worry about that. "Don't worry about the guards, you're with me." He gently pushed her forward and they started walking to the elevator. Just like Steve said, the guards didn't bother them and they got into an empty elevator. Angelina was nervous and excited. "My floor please, J.A.R.V.I.S." Steve said.  
  
"Of course, sir. Hello, you are Angelina, are you not?" J.A.R.V.I.S. asked, a curious pitch to his AI voice.  
  
"I am." Angelina beamed. "I'm sorry for trying to hack you months ago. I was just curious."  
  
"You are new to this world. Mr. Stark certainly wasn't happy, but it kept us on our toes and I have since had an upgrade. You will have to inform him of any other hacking abilities so I do not fall victim to anything more disastrous. That would be dangerous for everyone." J.A.R.V.I.S. told her, his tone gentle.  
  
Angelina nodded, "Tată told me you were security detail." She nodded, "I'll let him know."  
  
Steve had a feeling Tony was going to give a very long winded lecture about that.  
  
"I hope you enjoy your stay. I'll be talking with you throughout, I'm certain. I just wanted to wish you welcome." J.A.R.V.I.S. toned out to leave them to their conversation while the elevator continued up.  
  
The moment that they got to Steve's floor, Angelina felt a wave of sadness go through her. The area was quite bare, save for an easel that was standing at the sliding doors where the natural light was best and his paints. There were bookshelves and movies, but the apartment lacked color. It reminded her of how their apartment looked before they started working on color. For the sheets, for the bathroom, for the kitchen. Angelina and Bucky had both started to collect plants thanks to Dylan and Zan, too. Angelina would have to tell her dad that Steve needed a plant in his life.  
This was too sad.  
  
"Hey Steve." Natasha waved from her position on the couch. Her feet were propped up on the table and she was leaning against a blonde haired man who was sharpening his arrows. He also looked over and waved. "Brought a friend?"  
  
"Yes." Steve placed a hand on the back of Angelina's shoulder and gently pushed her towards the couch. Angelina felt worried, she forgot to take off her shoes and she was probably ruining the carpet. "This is my niece, Angelina. Angelina, this is Natasha and Clint."  
  
"Nice to meet you," Angelina said as she bent down to hurriedly take off her shoes. She'll set them by the door later.  
  
"Aw, so sweet, worrying about the carpet. Makes me feel bad for having mine on," Clint laughed sheepishly, "Nice to meet you, Angelina! We've been hearing a lot about you!"  
  
Angelina blinked and Steve laughed sheepishly. "Come on, sit down. I'll grab everyone a drink while I'm still up."  
  
"You're sweet, too, Steve." Nat called after him as he walked into the kitchen. Angelina placed her shoes by the couch and sat down next to Natasha. Nat smiled, "Steve told me that James talked a lot about me?"  
  
Angelina nodded, "You're easier to remember than his family." She tilted her head. "You were like me?"  
  
Clint nudged Natasha with a little wink, "Need me to leave you for privacy? I know you don't like talking about that with people around."  
  
Nat shook her head, "I'm not going too far down the rabbit hole." She assured Clint. "It's a girl thing. You establish a common ground and _then_  you get into the nitty gritty during a coffee break."  
  
"Whatever you say," Clint grinned at her and started putting away his arrows.  
  
Natasha grinned and turned back to Angelina. "Not quite. The Red Room was different from what you went through. Good-guy nonlethal is pretty hard, isn't it?"  
  
"I don't get it sometimes," Angelina confessed leaning back against the couch. "Tată is really into it. There's lots of things I can't do. Which is okay. But it's hard, sometimes I don't know if I'm doing something bad, something good, or neither."  
  
"That's why I had Clint honestly, he was the one that kind of helped me out with what I could do and couldn't. S.H.I.E.L.D had to retrain me in some areas of things as well." Nat nodded. "But you and James appear be doing well for yourselves. So I wouldn't worry too much about it. The Tower is a safe place, so you're not in any danger here as well."  
  
"We rely a lot on J.A.R.V.I.S, but we can handle ourselves pretty well," Clint agreed, "We were waiting for you to work up to coming here. I was pretty excited, not gunna lie. The Soldier's daughter? The Companion? That's interesting in it's own right, but you're _Bucky's_  daughter. Steve's best buddy's, which makes you extra special to Steve. Hell, if you'd waited any longer I probably would've shown up at your doorstep anyway."  
  
Angelina blinked slowly, "I'm...special? I mean, I know the Companion part would interest you. You're a part of S.H.I.E.L.D, but...me?"  
  
Natasha grinned, "Your father and Steve are famous. Their love story is just as on par as the Titanic, though Steve wouldn't dare call it a love story. Everyone wanted to have a friendship like Steve and Bucky's, or even imagine themselves to be apart of the Howling Commandos."  
  
"I'd call it a love story even if he doesn't." Clint chuckled and reached out, ruffling her hair, "You're a cute girl. I hope you are able to find your way. Somebody will always be there to help you out with whatever problem you've got. I've been a little bit brainwashed, too. Not very long, and Natasha broke me out of it, but the point still stands. Nat's been through a lot of her own crap. Steve, too. Not everything's all sunshine and roses behind that dopey smile...oh, hey, Steve, didn't see you were back with drinks."  
  
"I had to stop you before you tried to sprout of anymore poetry." Steve said with a smile as he handed everyone a drink. It was mostly a can of soda, water for Natasha, and he sat down on the other side of Angelina. "We're already talking about the heavy stuff huh? I'm surprised Clint, you had a bunch of questions you wanted to ask her and you wouldn't shut up."  
  
"You wouldn't." Nat agreed with a crinkle at the corner of her eyes as she cracked open her water bottle. "Steve did his best to answer some, but all we got was "I don't know, I haven't asked, that's a good question...it was painful Angelina."

Clint sipped his soda, "They're exaggerating...but only a little." Tapping his chin he hummed a bit before beaming at her, "Are you a sniper like your father? What's your favorite genre? Do you like hiding in the shadows or do you like people to know who's coming after them? Do you prefer reading or have your tried writing your own stories? Do you like playing with tactics on the field or are you a follower? I heard you tried hacking J.A.R.V.I.S. have you played around with a lot of technology? Do you like building things? Do you like the outdoors? Have you tried fishing or horseback riding? Do you like the city? Are you afraid of heights? What about water, are you afraid of it at all? When's your birthday? Do you even know it? What's your natural hair color? Your eyes are so pretty, and I love your freckles."  
  
So many questions. Angelina stared at Clint for a moment. He spoke quickly, but his mind was calm and easy to follow along. Much like her father. Maybe it was because he was a sniper, too. Though his energy was a lot higher than her dad's. "Um...I know how to shoot, but I'm not a sniper. I was trained in hacking, torture, killing methods, manipulation mostly emotional, information gathering both on the internet and from reading someone's mind, and being the Soldier's watchdog. The Soldier used me a lot more than Hydra ever did really. Hydra liked to do experiments on me. Which is why all the scars." She held her arms out. "For manga I really like dark things. I like horror a lot. Dead Tube is my favorite so far, so is Death Note and Another. I don't like Uzumaki I don't get it. I also like Shoujo. Ouran High School Host Club, Fruits Basket, Fushigi Yuugi. But for real books I like children's books, fantasy, and some romance."  
  
Steve had stared when she spoke about her time in Hydra. Experiments? He wanted to ask what kind, what they did to her, but he had a feeling she wouldn't answer that. In fact, she would probably just smile and say that it was a reward or something. Natasha took a drink of her water calmly, like it wasn't news to her. It probably wasn't.  
  
Clint didn't think twice about what she said about the torture and training. What he _did_  react to were the scars, reaching out to her and catching an arm, leaning over across Natasha's lap and kissing one of them, "Bastards." He muttered darkly under his breath, before he reached the hand up that had held her arm and patted her cheek, smiling brightly, "I don't know much about anime, but I've heard about it. You like children's books? What's your favorite fantasy creature?"  
  
"Dragons and Faeries." Angelina grinned happily. "Faeries try to make you do things, and give you riddles. You're not supposed to eat the food. You're not supposed to be indebted to them either. Dragons though, dragons in the West are bad, but dragons in the East are good." She nodded her head with finality and let her arms drop. "I don't understand the shadow one. Like...if I'm fighting someone? Or am I killing them?"  
  
"Uh...both? Like, you come up behind someone and take them out without them knowing who did it, or sniping, or if you like them to know who's got their life in their hands. That was kind of a dark question, too. You don't gotta answer it. Kinda just popped out." Clint shrugged.  
  
Angelina was thoughtful though and she leaned back. "I never thought of it." She said slowly. "I did what the Soldier told me to do. I killed silently then. But Hydra liked to make a game out of it sometimes. There were some people they captured, I had to kill. They'd tell me they did bad things, so the more blood the better. They always gave more specific instructions to the Soldier ."

She tilted her head, "I haven't tried writing. I like reading a lot. So does tată. We started collecting books. We have two bookcases. One for me and one for him. We go to the library most often though. We don't buy books too much."  
  
"I have books you could try! Nat might have a thing or two in Russian, and a couple other things if you want something complicated. Steve's got a bookshelf here you can rummage through if you ask." Clint winked at Steve, then returned his attention to Angel, "Everybody here likes books, I think. I'm sure Tony's got a library hidden away somewhere...though he prefers his labs more so maybe not."  
  
"I'll look." Angelina beamed happily. "I like reading books in Russian. It's easier to read than English. I don't tell tată that because he doesn't seem happy. He likes Russian food, but I think that's all the memory he'll take." She was thoughtful. "I wasn't allowed to try out much. I could only follow what the Soldier said. I had free reign when it came to what I did with the captives. If I needed to information gather, I could do whatever. Killing, torture. Very rarely did they ask me to do something specific. Besides information gathering. They always told me what to look for. I'm dependent."  
  
Clint tried to catch her attention but resorted to reaching behind Nat and doing it that way. He was avoiding responding to those at this point because Steve got paler the more he heard. It was his fault for asking those questions, but too late now. Steve would want to know it all, just to torture himself, but sometimes Clint wondered if it would be better to get it all out of the way at once or stop after a certain point so not to overload him.  
  
Steve was pale, but he was also boiling with anger and was sad too. They made Angelina and Bucky do such terrible things. Bucky had an entire list, but...the things they did to Angelina. He understood now why Bucky thought Steve couldn't protect Angelina. God. Angelina had been underneath the control of the Soldier and Hydra for so long of course she'd pick the Soldier. She was the Soldier's to begin with. He hoped he could end Hydra, and soon.  
  
Angelina could hear their thoughts going. Steve with his regret, Clint's panic about how much she was revealing, and Natasha who was still listening to this without reaction nor thought. Nothing she was saying was stirring any memory. She was listening to this much like she'd listen to someone gather information and trying to determine what to do with it afterwards.

"So, what about some of te oter things I asked? Fishing, riding, birthday?" Clint encouraged, figuring it would be best to stray away from the darker topics for now. There would be plenty of time for that later, with this group and all.  
  
"I like fish. Dyl-dal took me to an aquarium once. I like the sharks. I don't know about the fishing. I never been. Riding? I never seen a horse before, besides on pictures. I never rode one. I don't know my birthday. Until Uncle Steve had his birthday, I didn't know what it was. I just know I'm eighteen. Tată told me."  
  
Steve smiled sadly, he remembered that conversation. "She came up with brilliant ideas on how to spend it though. She wanted me to be a motorcyle racer in my spare time."  
  
"Now that would be a secret life I'd support." Natasha grinned. "Though I'm not sure you'd look good in leather. Brown leather maybe, but black doesn't suit you."  
  
"His stealth suit is black and that's pretty dashing, though it's not leather." Clint shook his head with a chuckle, "If not racing, just take Angel out or a ride. You don't use it nearly as much as you can. Not everything has to involve you smashing it into bad guys."  
  
"Tată would agree," Angelina said solemnly. "You give him lots of heart attacks when he finds things out. The parachute made him rant. A long time."  
  
"He found out about that?" Steve asked sheepishly.  
  
Angelina nodded, "I'd like to ride. It'll be fun. We'll be really careful. Stick to the street and not freeway till I'm good. Then we do freeway. You could go real fast on that."  
  
"Angelina, you should get him out of the Tower more." Natasha grinned as she watched the exchange. "He needs to do things that are reckless that _isn't_  mission related."  
  
"I do plenty of reckless things that aren't mission related." Steve retorted.  
  
"Pining over Bucky isn't one of them."  
  
Angelina just frowned, "You need fun."  
  
"Fun is a foreign word for this guy, he just worries all the time and thinks too much. You should teach him what fun to _you_  is." Clint beamed at Angel.  
  
"I'm still learning." Angelina tilted her head and looked at her uncle who was looking exasperated at Nat and Clint. Nat just looked very pleased with herself. "I can do my best though. I'll talk to tată and come up with a sub-mission plan."  
  
Steve felt his cheeks burn. Bucky's ideas of fun were always dragging him to dates. He wasn't sure what the new Bucky was going to come up with, or with Angelina's help.

* * *

Tony and Bruce weren't in the labs, but they were at the communal room that was on one of the highest floors. Steve told her that it was the largest place to hang since they were all Avengers. Movie nights happened on Thrusdays, Game nights on Tuesdays, and whatever Tony and Bruce thought of happened in between those days. Steve didn't come up with her, mostly because Nat held him back. She didn't know what they were going to talk about, but Angelina assumed the worst. Nat's mind was too sharp, but a little confusing. Even her own motivations were a bit strange.  
  
"Hey Cap-whose this?" Tony asked as he appeared from the kitchen, wiping his hands down with a dishtowel. His mind was like watching a speed-car race a circuit. it made her dizzy just to listen to it. "J.A.R.V.I.S?"  
  
"That is Angelina Barnes, sir." J.A.R.V.I.S. assured, "She is the one who attempted to break into my system."  
  
"I'm sorry about that." Angelina shifted. "Tată wasn't happy."  
  
"Yeah, neither was I. Why did you try to hack into J.A.R.V.I.S system? You were trying to get into everyone's personal files, I saw that." Tony shook his head, "Well, it's whatever. You didn't get them, and clearly you're not planning on hacking J.A.R.V.I.S again are you?" She shook her head.  
  
"Good. Hey Bruce! Brucy! Bruce. Bruce." He paused and turned to her. "Have you even eaten anything yet? Bruce is making lunch for the team, come on. J.A.R.V.I.S will keep an eye out on you while you're in here. I don't trust you. How did you learn how to hack anyway? Hydra?"  
  
"Um...yes." Angelina frowned as she walked towards the ktichen. It was huge. A long island counter with enough space to walk around it without crashing into anyone. There was a nice bar seat that had fancy glasses hanging above it. A large fridge that could store up tons of food, and there was a man standing at the stove, watching something sizzle in the pan. It smelled really good, it made Angelina's stomach growl.  
  
"I'm going to go annoy Cap." Tony said easily. "I'm only in the way when Bruce is cooking and he doesn't like me in here. Hydra bastards. You're gonna tell me more about your hacking abilities later though. Who knew Hydra even cared about computers. I didn't. Hey Bruce, this is Angelina. She's Cap's niece or something like that. You're good with kids so you keep her."  
  
"Have a seat at the island counter," a nerdy looking man waved absently to the place he mentioned before returning to chopping the vegetables on the cutting board. He glanced behind him briefly, "I only don't like him in here because he doesn't stand still," he clarified to the child.  
  
"I stand perfectly still," Tony answered, but both Angelina's raised eyebrow and Bruce's over the glasses look made him roll his eyes. "I'm not appreciated. I'm going somewhere else then. Ciao. Don't let her burn my kitchen." He walked off towards the elevator and Angelina tilted her head.  
  
"He's so...weird." Angelina went to the island counter and sat down on a stool and watched Tony walk off. "He talks as fast as he thinks."  
  
"That doesn't surprise me at all." Bruce admitted with a soft smile, sliding the chopped veggies into a bowl, "Angelina, is it? That's a lovely name. Steve's niece? So you're Bucky Barnes' daughter?"  
  
"Thank you. Yes. He likes being called James. But, he doesn't say anything when Uncle Steve calls him Bucky." Angelina nodded, "What are you making? It smells good."  
  
"It's a surprise, but also a variety. Are you going to stick around for dinner? Or do you have to go home?" Bruce asked curiously and he put oil on a frying pan, working on breaded fried chicken next, "What do you like to eat? Who does the cooking for yourself and your father?"  
  
Angelina grinned, "Tată and I both share. He does it more though, it's relaxing for him. I like the the taste. I don't have a favorite. I like spicy foods. I got to try Indian Curry with Zan once. Dyl-dal doesn't do spicy, so he told us to have fun. It was. We also tried this strawberry sherbet thing, it was real smooth. I like baking more though. Dyl-dal's been teaching me his recipes and we make things together. Tată has a big sweet tooth so he tastes everything we make. Zan's not much of a sweet person. She likes coffee cakes and things like that." She thought about it, "I can ask my tată if I can stay, but he probably wants me home."  
  
"I'm sure if Steve texts him, he could convince him to let you stay. Steve could even drive you home to make up for stealing you all day." Bruce offered, "I'm sure you're getting hungry, and a group meal would be quite entertaining. You'll be the light of the party, but I can keep an eye on you and steer the conversation off of you if you need it."  
  
"You're really kind. I like that about you." Angelina smiled brightly as she went through her cross-over purse and started digging through it to find her phone to ask her dad's permission to stay. "What do you do? For a job?"  
  
"I try to be kind." Bruce murmured, "I'm glad you like me so far. I don't do anything, except work here. Tony let's me use his lab, and we work together. We have our arguments, as all scientists do, but it's all in the name of research."  
  
Angelina sat up straight. "A scientist?" She felt her heart pound. "You don't do...experiments on people. Do you?"  
  
"Oh, no, no, relax," Bruce said calmly as he shook the chicken in the pan and then flipped them with tongs, "Just technology. Computers and things like that."  
  
Angelina breathed a sigh of relief. "I had enough of being experimented on by others. I don't like needles or knives that much on me. I do computers too. I built my own once. They didn't like it and made me destroy it...till they realized it was helpful. Then they asked me to make another one. They couldn't make up their minds. Do you like cooking?"  
  
"I like cooking, I also like mixing drinks. Domestic things...cleaning house, sowing..." 'Though that last one is a necessity...' he hummed, "Spicy foods...sherbet..." he was making mental notes of foods to possibly make her, or find recipes for. "Building computers is one thing. I wonder what you could do if Tony and I gave you access to the components we have."  
  
"I don't know." Angelina grinned, "Hopefully something good. Especially with the materials Tony has. It depends if he'll let me near them. I ruined his trust with J.A.R.V.I.S. You should write the recipes down. I do better with written word. It's easier to memorize than spoken. English isn't a good language for me yet. You know how to sew? That's so cool! Bartending...it sounds noisy. I haven't been in a bar, but I know that it's loud.. I can't drink yet. I'm eighteen."  
  
"Ha, Tony has his own bar where I can mix drinks." Bruce chuckled and put the cooked chicken on a plate. He'd done a couple batches while they talked and was now done with the chicken. Next step was to do the steak for the 'real meat' lovers and he already had that tenderized, so he grabbed the George Forman press and started to get it hot. "The clinking could be noisy I supposed, though I do agree a real bar is annoying. It suits those who enjoy partying, such as Tony, but quiet people like us don't care for it. Yes I can sew, both with a machine and without. If you have any pants that are too long for you, I can hem them."  
  
"Could you teach me?" Angelina asked, her eyes wide. "Zan taught me how to scrapbook. Sewing would be fun. You don't have to go into a mall! I'm still working on my tolerance to crowds. People think a lot and it gives me a headache. It makes me sick sometimes."  
  
"I understand that feeling. The tenseness, the feeling all eyes are on you. All the touching and too much stimulus." Bruce nodded, "I also understand it's difficult because of your ability to read minds. Perhaps if you come around here more, we could practice. Knowing what you're dealing with helps a lot. I am sure your Dyl-Dal does the best he can, but he doesn't have experience. That's okay, too. There's methods and tricks we can all help with. You've noticed Natasha keeps herself pretty calm, I'm sure."  
  
"Her mind is tricky." Angelina nodded, "I can't read her as well as I can read Uncle Steve. Clint's talks fast, but his mind is easy to keep up with too. I would like to learn. It's starting to hurt tată sometimes. He's...not happy. He tries to be. He's happy when he comes home from seeing Uncle Nick, or texting Uncle Steve, but...I think he's starting to realize that I'm a mess. He doesn't know what to do. Dyl-dal too. We have to keep a lot of things secret from tată. Like the fact I still keep a time log."  
  
"That's very sad..." Bruce admitted softly, brows furrowed, "It sounds like your father is missing something in his life. He is just as lost as you are. Yet he's happy when he talks to your Uncle? That doesn't surprise me at all. He's struggling with Contact, from what I've heard. Texting is a huge step. I didn't expect it to happen as soon as it did." Within a year is what he meant my 'soon', really. He expected it to take so much longer. Yet of course, with the temptation so close, he supposed everything was up in the air.  
  
"I wish I knew what to do. He does a lot." Angelina's shoulder's slump. "I know hiding my problems is bad. But, I think that's the only thing I can do right now. I talk to Sam and Dylan about them, but I don't think I should tell tată and Uncle Steve. He got really upset when he heard about what I was trained to do in Hydra."

"Would you be upset if Dylan had to go through the same things as you?" Bruce asked carefully, slowly.  
  
Angelina frowned, tilting her head. "I wouldn't want him to become a science experiment. They're not very kind and they don't like using anesthesia all that much. The training's interesting, but you can die if you make even a tiny flaw. My handlers were very unforgiving. They didn't kill me, I was lucky. But they liked putting me in the black box. It was horrifying." She shuddered. "I don't want Dylan to go through that either. The black box isn't fun."

"You wouldn't want any of that for him...because he is your precious person, isn't that right?" Bruce hummed, spraying the Forman with Pan spray and throwing the first two small steaks on, pressing the top down lightly and there was sizzling in the kitchen again.  
  
Angelina nodded. "Yes." She felt her stomach growl. The food that he was making smelled so good. She wondered if her father was already texting Steve about letting her stay. He hadn't responded to anything she sent him yet. Unless he was talking to Nicky.  
  
"That's why Steve gets so worried about you. You're the daughter of his most precious person, and you've become your own precious person to him. For Bucky, you and Steve will always be on equal footing when it comes to being precious to him. It frustrates you and makes you sad, to lie and hide, but they just want you to be happy." Bruce sighed, "What Hydra did and does is the worst. Everyone knows that. It took away Steve's precious person and destroyed both of their souls. Now he has to endure the knowledge that you didn't grow up in a loving and happy home. That's ripping his heart to pieces all over again, and it's not your fault. I'm sure he's itching to get back into the fight every time he hears another tidbit. He wants Hydra wiped out more than anyone you could name. Steve has to be one of the most vicious people here, besides Natasha, when people injure those he cares for."  
  
Angelina thought about what Bruce was saying and she frowned as she looked at the counter. Steve was hurting. She knew that. She heard her ringtone go and she quickly looked at it. It gave her time to process her thoughts about what she wanted to say to Bruce.  
  
/ **'I interrogated your Uncle Steve to see what he'd do with you if you stayed and confirmed it's fine if you decide to stay the night. I'll know where you are. If not I don't care how late or early you come back. I'll be awake either way.'** / James' text read.  
  
"Tată said I can stay for dinner and if I want to, spend the night." Angelina said as she closed her phone and placed it away in to her bag. "I don't know what to do." She said as she laid her head down on the counter, watching him move around the kitchen. "Mission is to protect, but I don't know what I'm doing with that anymore. Open-ended missions are hard. Especially when my protecting is hurting."  
  
"Oh, dearheart..." Bruce sighed softly, "That mission protection detail is never going away. It's permanent. You protect Dylan without needing to be prompted, right? It's the same for Steve, and even your father, or anyone else you're close with. When you stop thinking of it as a mission it'll get easier. What would be easier at the _moment_  is to give yourself sub-missions. Goals. Do this or go there. Get to know, learn. The peaceful downtime between real missions for us can get a little boring...for me I'm grateful whenever I don't have to become the Big Guy, but sometimes even Natasha will get antsy. She would be the person to ask about what to do with your downtime, having the best understanding of your situation."  
  
"Maybe." Angelina said with a frown. "Sub-missions. I don't know. Too much to worry about. Uncle Steve asked me about my education level, I think he wants to work on that. Dylan wants to take me to a con so I gotta work on that. Tată wants me to get used to living in the tower, but...I don't think I want to. I like the apartment where we are. We put things in spaces and those spaces are happy. I saw Uncle Steve's floor. It's so sad."  
  
"Steve is pretty Spartan. It annoys Tony, too, who decorates everyone's floor." Bruce laughed softly and threw two more steaks on since the first two were done, "Work on one thing at a time. I will still suggest having a one on one with Natasha. If you wish to, you could say she is one of my precious people. I trust her enough where she is the one who can calm down the Big Guy. We've been working on it slowly but surely. She'll be good to you."  
  
"I trust you." Angelina nodded, "Talk to Natasha. I'll do that later. I like watching you cook. You don't think fast and it's really nice. Soft even. I don't get thoughts like that often."  
  
"Well, I'll be wrapping up dinner here." Bruce turned to her briefly with a slightly bigger smile than what he'd been wearing, "Just a few more things to cook since Steve eats so much, but then we'll all be sitting down together. If you're staying, I'm sure Tony will make tonight movie night as well just for an excuse to keep you longer."  
  
Angelina smiled and she slipped down from the island counter. "Then I'll tell people to start coming. Movie night sounds good. Not much bothers me. As long as I get home I'm okay with whatever. I don't think I'll sleep over though. I don't like wearing the same clothes. See you at dinner." She said with a wave and went to the elevator.

* * *

The car was a safe space. Angelina leaned against the window as Natasha drove down the city roads, the bright street lights passed them by, making the sky look ten times darker than it was. She felt her eyes droop as she nodded off in the passenger seat, though she fought tooth and nail to stay awake.  
  
"Do you like your apartment?" Natasha asked after a moment of silence. She could tell that Angelia was trying to stay awake, and she knew that conversation was the best way to start that.  
  
"I do." Angelina nodded, "We have plants, we have things. We can put things in spaces. We have space, and a couch, and a T.V that was hand-me-down from a thirft store. It's nice. It's a shame it's only six months though."  
  
"Why you'd stay longer?" Nat questioned. "What about the Tower?"  
  
"I don't like it. Uncle Steve doesn't look happy living in it. It feels isolated, and it's not safe." Angelina shook her head from side to side, clutching her purse tight against her body. "I don't like not feeling safe."  
  
"I'm surprised you'd say it's not safe. J.A.R.V.I.S is the best security detail that we have." Natasha mused as she turned her turn signal on to go down a different road.  
  
"It can be safe from Outsiders, but it's not safe for Insiders." Angelina confessed. "Sam told me."  
  
"What did Sam tell you?"  
  
"That having a bunch of superheroes staying in one place is risky. That you can be obliterated or you could whip ass."  
  
"Whoop." Natasha corrected with a tiny smile appearing at the corner of her lips. "Whip." Her smile grew a little. "So why does the apartment make you sad?"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Your apartment. You smiled when you talk about it, but you sounded sad." Natasha corrected.  
  
"Oh." Angelina shifted in the seat. "...Things are hard. There's a lot of things I don't understand, and everyone tries to tell me what I should understand and that's okay. Information is to be shared. But it's a lot of information. My tată doesn't know what to do with the information sometimes. He wants me out of the apartment more. Which is fine, and he wants me to do things, which is fine, but he wants a lot."  
  
Natasha understood what she was saying and nodded her head, "Yeah. I think we weren't much help either were we?"  
  
"Bruce might teach me how to sew...that'd be nice." Angelina offered. "And I could take Uncle Steve thrift shopping. His apartment's sad."  
  
"Yeah, it is." Natasha pulled up to their apartment building and she turned off the car, "Ready to be home now?"  
  
"Yessss." Angelina beamed and jumped out of the car.

* * *

James was more than proud to have Natasha watch him as he tucked Angelina in, her breathing deep with sleep. She'd fallen asleep on the couch first, but didn't budge except to cuddle against him for warmth when he moved her to her bed. After kissing her forehead, he moved away and walked to the door where she was leaning against it, arms folded and an interesting half-neutral half-soft expression on her face. "I can tell she had a great time." She'd told him all about it, he was just re-affirming that it was quite obvious and he was happy.  
  
"Her and Bruce made Tony jealous." Natasha said as she pushed away from the doorframe and followed him back out into the living room. "Clint had asked some very hard questions, but she answered them. It made Steve sad, but...he tends to go after things that make him sad. Or angry."  
  
"I've noticed that. It's a bad habbit, but one I don't think anyone will be able to break so easily. Someone would have to be there with him to tell him to stop and distract him...which I can't do. Not yet." James rubbed his face, "I have an odd request of you right off the bat, but it's something you could do while we talk."  
  
"Hm?" Natasha looked at him curiously, what request could be odd that she could do while they talked?  
  
"I have whatever you need...razor, scissors, but would you cut my hair for me?" James smiled just a bit sheepishly.  
  
"Scissors. A razor might wake Anzhelina up." Natasha nodded as she gestured for him to go towards the kitchen. She found a pair of scissors and she also grabbed a dish towel. She had to go into the bathroom momentarily to find a clip that would hold the towel in place. Once she got him prepped and ready, she held the scissors at his hair. "How short? A trim?"  
  
"I got a hair tie from...heh...my long-lost brother-in-law, so I want to be able to use it. It's getting too dangerous this long, and I can't go to a hair salon." James explained as he had pulled up a chair and had taken off his shirt so hair wouldn't get all over it and it'd be easier cleanup. " _Bol'shoye spasibo_ , Natalia." **Thank you very much.**  
  
Natasha smiled warmly as she took the comb and started working at his hair. They were silent for a long moment when she decided to speak. "Anzhelina has a hard time being normal." She commented. "You're doing well yourself, but I'm guessing it's because you and Steve have the same kind of stubbornness."  
  
"We really do. I always see him open his mouth when we're doing the runs lately in the mornings, but because of my rule of no speaking, he always clamps it shut or cuts himself off. It hurts us both every time, but I don't know what to do, what steps to take. I say I'm doing my best, but it's certainly not enough." James grumbled in frustration.  
  
Natasha nodded her head. "Do you want my advice or do you want to keep trying? Do you also want my advice about Anzhelina, or do you want to keep trying with that as well?"  
  
"I know when I've hit a brick wall..." James mumbled, "I'll take your advice, as long as it's not 'make contact tomorrow and stop being a whiny _suka_ '."  
  
"Aw, that was my advice to." Natasha teased and gently tapped him with the scissors. "Don't move, you're ruining my work. Okay, so for Steve and you...try calling him on the phone instead of texting. You graduated from that. Now you have to start hearing his voice. You should also ask him to do something other than run. You can hang out and not talk. In fact, if he really wants to talk, tell him that he can talk to you, but you just won't respond. It'll make him feel better...or maybe it'll take that itch away."  
  
"I've been toying with the idea...I'm sure you've heard of the coffee shop escapades." James hummed, going as still for her as he would when waiting for a sniper shot. "I want...to start sitting with him at the table...but I will probably only do that when Sam's not with him."  
  
"Sounds like a plan." Natasha nodded, "But you should think about calling him too. It'll be better than texting. It'll also prepare you for contact when you decide to jump the gun."  
  
"Right..." he acknowledged, "I'm sure your advice about my daughter is a bit more complex..." he prompted her for the other half.  
  
Natasha was frowning at that, "She's getting tired, James." She said after a while of thought. "She's trying very hard to try to make you happy, but she's sacrificing a lot to do that. I'd dare say she's going as far as to sacrifice her own sanity, to keep you that way. She's keeping secrets that are painful. Steve stumbled upon a few. So did I. So did Clint. Maybe so did Bruce. But as much as we try to give advice, we're horrible at it." Natasha moved to work on the left side of his hair, combing carefully to capture the ends and started snipping away at them. "Her wall is massive compared to yours."  
  
"I'm pushing her too hard..." James sighed through his nose so he wouldn't disturb her. "She's improved, but she needs a break. Today was a milestone. I get what you're saying." He needed to stop telling her to go places and do things. Stop making her do things she didn't want to do. "I have my moments...but I'm not being a good father..." his voice cracked just a bit without his meaning to. He was way too pushy and Nat was right. Her smile was forced a lot of the time recently.  
  
"I will hit you with the scissors again," Natasha warned. "I didn't say you were a bad father and she'd _never_  say that to you. She adores you. She listens to _you_. If anyone here is a bad person, James, it's Hydra. It's Hydra and you know it." She paused. "It's not a shame to want your child to expand, and grow wings, but of course it's all our fault. We keep trying to help you get her to expand we're just making her dizzy with the information." She paused. "So, how about we shut up and mind our own business and you do your father thing. You're better at it. I mean, I think Anzhelina is about to go off on Steve's apartment. She _hates_  it."  
  
That got an unexpected tiny laugh out of him and he made no complaints as she did hit him with the scissors, but nothing had been ruined so it was okay. "Steve still living the Military life during the Great Depression? I hope he doesn't _eat_  that way, too."  
  
"No, he's a decent cook actually." Natasha hummed. "But his apartment is bare. Angelina was muttering to herself about how the apartment was sad that the things didn't go into spaces and that the spaces were sad that the things weren't there. Whatever that means. She's very obsessed with people having things I noticed. She kept passing food to the nearest empty plate."  
  
"It's her own little quirk. She wants more shelves to place the things Dylan gets her from the shows they watch and she likes the most." James was amused, his smile tender, "I told him to buy her things for her wardrobe for a while until I managed to get to the store. We need shelves for the books we're getting from the library, too."  
  
"Hoarders." Natasha teased fondly, but continued cutting his hair and stepped back to study her work, raking her fingers through his hair and finding bits she missed. "Well, I can tell you that Steve's about to discover that sensation of wanting to have places to put things in. I'm shocked she didn't say anything about the color in Steve's apartment. It's horrid, James. You'd laugh and cry and you wouldn't know which feeling was stronger."  
  
"Oh god don't tell me it's that boring beige color? Tony had more flair when buying furniture for Angel and I." James rolled his eyes, "May I move now?"  
  
"You can move." Nat agreed after a moment and brushed some of the hair off of his shoulders. "It's worse than that. Not only is the walls beige. But the carpet, the kitchen, the bathroom..."  
  
"I'll tell Angelina to find his paint tubes and smear it on his walls. Give it some character." James groaned, "No wonder she was sad. That is horrific."  
  
"I don't think she wants Steve in the tower..." Natasha continued. "She's definitely not fond of the idea either. I'm sure that if she gets a chance, she'll drag him here and make him live with you two."  
  
That made James go dead silent. He turned to face her slowly, face pale, eyes wide, and his heart had jumped to his throat but was somehow also trying to break out of his chest. "I hadn't...considered that option..." he admitted to her.  
  
Natasha stared at him. "I thought that was why you had Anzhelina check the Tower out. She's a mind reader. She'd know safety way better than any of us."  
  
"No...I had wanted to live there...thought it would be safest..." James swallowed thickly, "It's a new angle to think about. I remember he and I used to bunk together. What would be so different now, besides our obvious PTSD?"  
  
"Well, you have Angelina." Natasha pointed out. "She's eighteen, but she's still living here so you should talk to her about it. Other than that? Probably not all that much. In fact, maybe it's better for you. Don't tell Steve, by the way. If it's something you think is better, which I do, then let me know and I'll get Steve out of the tower and distract Tony." There was a curve at her lips to indicate she wasn't serious about it.  
  
James reached up and tenderly touched Nat's lips. It was an old, familiar gesture and he watched her for her reaction, visible or not. He didn't mean anything by his touch, not in that way. It was just something sweet. He smiled just for her, in that way he used to as well when things were darker yet simpler. "You're a gift. This has been an enlightening night. Thank you for your advice. I needed it, obviously." He brushed his fingers across her cheek next and then dropped his hand as he stood up.  
  
Natasha nodded, though she was taken aback by the gesture. She was thoughtful and she watched him for a moment, "I'll drop by again." She assured after a while. "You need some rest. Have a good night, James." She placed the scissors away and walked off, closing the apartment door behind her quietly.  
  
James took his time, cleaning up the kitchen and taking a shower to get rid of the hair tickling the back of his neck and his shoulders. When he was done, he found his phone and lounged on the couch, not ready for bed yet. Natasha's words tumbled in his mind, and he flicked through his phone contacts. He had Sam's number, even though he'd never called nor texted. Dylan and Zan, Angelina, and Steve. Clicking on Steve's he shot an easy text. _/_ **'You awake? Don't lie if I woke you.'** /  
_  
/_ **'Still awake.'** / Steve's reply came quickly. _/_ **'Did Angelina get home safe?'** /  
  
/ **'Yes. Nat's on her way back now.'** / James' stomach was twisting tight, and his breathing spiked as he felt anxiety and panic. He was always just...so worried Steve would ask _questions_  and that was why he'd put the gag on him. Yet...that just...wasn't fair. To anyone. _/_ **'We had a good talk...I missed her.'** /  
_  
/ /_ Steve sent before adding. _/_ **Angelina was a sweetheart. I think she likes Bruce more than she likes anyone. Well, besides Sam. I think Sam might be her all time favorite.** /  
  
_/'_ **I'm glad she found someone new to attach herself to. I'm sure she charmed everyone.'** / James gripped his phone and barely resisted crushing it. He gritted his teeth. You didn't get anywhere without taking risks, and that was what they did best. _/_ **'I have something I want to say.'** /  
  
_/_ **Okay.** _/_ Steve wrote back promptly. _/_ **I won't text till you say it.** _/_  
  
James hit the call button.  
  
It took a few rings before Steve picked up, "You made me drop my phone, I wasn't expecting it." He was laughing. "Hey Buck."  
  
It was an extremely weird mix he was feeling right now all of a sudden. His throat and words were locked up, but Steve's soft rumble of a voice sent chills along his spine that both soothed and put him on a live-wire. There was silence for a long moment, and they just listened to each other's breathing. He only spoke at the same time he heard Steve's take a breath to say something as well. He wouldn't ever _not_  be able to predict his moves, he was sure of that.  
  
"Yes." He said first, and then, "My name is Bucky." Wouldn't Nick get a riot out of this. His own name didn't sound like he was disgusted with himself anymore. "As...good as that is, by the hitch in your breath...I really just...wanted to say _good night_ , Steve." Such a silly, simple little thing he wanted to say, but it turned into so much more, didn't it? It probably always would.  
  
Steve's voice sounded like he was smiling, "Goodnight, Bucky." He said lightly. "It's so good to hear your voice."  
  
How about a cherry on top of this cake? "You're a punk."  
  
Steve cracked up, "And you're a jerk. I'm not hanging up till you do."  
  
It was a good game. He really didn't. He also didn't say anything else. Bucky just listened as he shuffled around his room, doing whatever Steve did now a days to get ready for bed, and then finally it got quiet except for breathing again when he got in his bed. Buck was still on the couch, but Angelina had found him here before. He didn't want to move. The warm feeling he had was just...too good. Natasha was always right.  
  
Steve's breathing was struggling, wanting to go deeper for sleep, but the stubbornness made Bucky smile. He whispered 'good night' again, barely a whisper, but their hearing picked it up so easily. Steve returned the words to him, and Bucky ended the call. He had pushed his own limit, but he would get better.  
  
They'd all get better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> suka - bitch


	14. Birthday Bash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ANGEL'S BIRTHDAY
> 
>  
> 
>  
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> Also contact ;)

They needed to talk. Angelina could hear it in his mind, his thoughts coming and going with how he was going to approach Steve without being too creepy. It had been awkward the last past few days since she came home. Her father was careful. He stopped suggesting about what to do the for the day, and instead asked her if she had any plans. She was happy for the change in question, it made her a bit relieved, but she couldn't help but to notice the change in thought.  
  
"Anzhelina...I want to talk to you about something important." Bucky finally said after a long day of mostly silence unless he was in the kitchen and asking her what she wanted.  
  
Angelina pursed her lips together as she came out of the kitchen, carrying a tea cup. "I think we need to talk too." She agreed. "Couch?"  
  
The couch had become their go-to place for talking. They'd tried it in the bedroom a time or two, but with it's high back and arm rests, they could sit in the corners and feel protected, especially if it was a deep conversation. So, that is what they did. After a moment, Bucky took a deep breath. "I decided on the name I want to use." He decided to start out with. He had already told nick when Angel was with Dylan the day after his phone call, and had told Zan at the coffee shop yesterday. "I'm going by Bucky now. It felt like the time was right."  
  
Angelina wrinkled her nose, "I liked your other name. But it's a good name. Do I still call you _tată_?"  
  
"Of course! That doesn't change anything." Bucky assured her, "We're still _tată_ and _fetiță_ , I swear. That will always be the same. I hope...going by a different name doesn't bother you?" he asked worriedly, "I hope I'm not...changing too much?" The last thing he wanted was for her to be uncomfortable, to think of him as a stranger and not her father.  
  
Angelina shook her head from side to side. "What you want matters too." She told him gently. "Uncle Steve always thinks and calls you Bucky. I'm used to James. But that's okay. I can get used to Bucky, too."  
  
Heaving a great sigh of relief, he reached over and hugged her tightly. After a sweet moment he pulled away, "So...I also wanted to to tell you one more thin, and then you can talk to me about whatever you wanted."  
  
"Okay," Angelina took a breath readying herself to hear whatever it was that he was about to say. He was keeping it purposefully away from his thoughts, so she couldn't cheat.  
  
"So...it had been a while since I looked at it, but I took a gander at your birth certificate because I had a feeling in my gut." Bucky smiled, "Your birthday is coming up. Would you like to know what it is?"  
  
"I was going to ask you about that," Angelina leaned in, her hands clutched at her knees. "Everyone keeps asking me about it. I keep telling them that I don't know. They looked at me weird for not knowing. What is it?!"  
  
Bucky laughed and then rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "That's my fault for not telling you. It's actually August 25th. You're a Virgo...like your Auntie Allison. Nick told me her birthday had been September 15th."  
  
Angelina stared for a moment and she leaned back. "August twenty-fifth." She repeated. "My birthday's...this month!" She clapped her hands excitedly. "That's so cool! I'll text everyone I know later. They've been wanting to know. It bothered them that I didn't. I'll make sure to include Uncle Steve. I'm sure he'd want to know too."  
  
"Go ahead . I already have a plan for Steve...I wanted you to know that I called him for the first time a couple days ago. We didn't say much, but it was...enough. I could tell he was very happy. I was going to start sitting with him at the cafe instead of just doing runs with him in the mornings." Bucky informed her, "I'll have something to ask him face to face...it will and won't be contact. I know when I break this barrier a lot of things might happen in quick succession. We'll see."  
  
Angelina nodded and she took a sip of her tea before setting back down on the coffee table. "It might, it might not. We'll see what happens." She agreed. She pursed her lips together for a moment before taking a breath. "Uncle Steve has easy solutions, but...we're struggling ourselves. Communication is important. Sam said so."  
  
"I am beginning to understand that." Bucky nodded, "Not everything can happen in a snap. We both know that. At least we're both making more progress than even we gave ourselves credit for."  
  
Angelina smiled, "We do our best. Our best is enough." She paused. "I'm not very good at talking. Not about my wants and needs. I know what I want matters. I know what I need matters most. But it's hard to...talk about it. I don't have the words, or if I do, they get stuck and I feel bad." She reached over and took her cup. "You're not a mind reader. Lot's of things that are said or done hurt. They hurt a lot. I don't like keeping secrets from you, but Dylan told me that if it's a secret that makes you happy not to know, then it's a secret worth keeping. Because it'll hurt you if you know. I don't want you to be like Uncle Steve, who finds things to hurt himself with."  
  
"Oh... _fetiță_..." Bucky frowned and patted her head gently, "Nat mentioned there were things she, Clint, and Steve found out or guessed at. If you think it won't hurt me not knowing, then...do what you think is best. Secrets are a tricky thing...but I'm sure if you ever decide to tell me, I will understand your reasoning."  
  
Angelina felt relieved. She never wanted to have her father think badly of her, especially for trying to protect him. She felt her shoulders slump physically and her mind stopped buzzing in worry. She had been so scared. "Okay." She said and she took a breath. "I was worried that it'd hurt you knowing I was hiding things. But thank you. It means a lot."  
  
"Is that all, Angel love?" Buck asked kindly, "That's all I really wanted to talk about. How about you?"  
  
Angelina shifted, "I noticed that you're trying really hard with me." She rubbed her hands together and started fidgeting with her fingers. "You're not telling me what to do or where to go, but asking me about my plans instead."  
  
"Nat also kind of yelled at me." Buck admitted, "I've been pushing you pretty hard...and she told me to dial it back a notch or two. So, I just wanted you to have a break from me nagging you and you can go at your own pace for a time."  
  
"Oh." Angelina frowned deeply. "I'm used to you shoving, but everyone else has their own advice. It's hard to take into consideration a lot of it. Sam and Bruce have good advice though." Her frown turned thoughtful and she placed a finger on her chin. "Sam told me to work on crowds. Go small then big. Dylan and I went to some places, but...maybe I should try on my own? Ask Uncle Steve to come with me? He needs things to do. His apartment is awful, tată. It's so sad."  
  
"Nat told me it was beige everything. Honestly I forgot this, but I was going to tell you next time you're there to find some of your Uncle Steve's paint tubes and smear paint on his walls." Buck smirked at her. "Watercolor won't work, it'll have to be some actual paint."  
  
"I'll see what I can do," Angelina promised before furrowing her eyebrows. "You need to be with Uncle Steve more. His apartment is sad, and that makes him sad. I think he has the sadness sickness. I think it's sickness anyway. His mind isn't...it's like yours. Only without the holes. It's heavy."  
  
"Yeah...I know. I'll do something about it over the next week. Then we can start preparing your birthday party, okay?" Buck kissed her temple.  
  
She hugged him. "I love you." She said as she rested her head against his shoulder. "I can't wait for the birthday. That's so cool. I'll text everyone now!" She let him go. "I'll do my best to do you proud." She told him before she ran off to find her phone.

* * *

It'd been four days and Bucky felt like he was going to explode. Right now his chin was in his hand as he watched Steve watch him. The first day had been awkward, not too sure how to feel about it on both ends. Second day Sam'd been there. Third day Buck had basically done a note-passing sort of thing, as if they were texting but they were right in front of each other. Mundane topics were filling up his journal, but it was casual and more relaxed. Today, though...today Bucky had the notebook but didn't want to use it. He wanted to use his goddamn words and Steve knew him as well as Bucky knew Steve. Of course. So...Steve was waiting.  
  
"I knew that you were dating, but you don't have to make out." Zan said dryly as she came to their table, her tray on her hip. "Coffee? Tea today? Or do I need to whip up something special?"  
  
"Whip up a surprise for me. I'm feeling ambitious." Steve said, not once taking his eyes off of Bucky.  
  
_'Of course you are, you little shit.'_ Bucky thought, trying to ignore the heat he felt on his neck and cheeks at Zan's dating comment. A sudden image of Steve lounging in his lap as they watched TV on the couch in their 1940s apartment popped into his mind, and it also caused a pang in his chest. Nat had suggested it...it was a good thought. He turned the memory into a fantasy, imagining them as they were now with Angelina with her feet on her Uncle Steve's lap, morphing the dingy scrapheap they'd lived in into the nice one he had, plant included.  
  
"I promise not to hold it against you." Steve assured as he leaned back. "I was teasing about the date, Buck. I'm sorry." He looked a little sad. "I didn't want you to think that I was rushing you. We're gonna take our time here. You're doing so well. I don't want to be the reason you have to take seven steps back or so."  
  
"O-Of course. I know that. Sorry for snapping." Buck worried his bottom lip, "I want...to say a lot of things, but ninety percent of it isn't appropriate for public. So...I'll just stick with what's important right now. Not only is it special because I'm talking to you, but...you got Angel's text about her birthday, yeah?"  
  
"Everyone got the text." Steve laughed, "With a bunch of emojis and hearts. She's really excited about knowing it." His smile turned soft and tender. "And think, she didn't know what it was. I was actually hoping to talk to you about it too. I want to do something for her for her birthday and I need ideas."  
  
"That's exactly what I wanted to do. For physical gifts, if you want...to...go shopping, we can do that, but..." Bucky slid the notebook over to Steve.  
  
"The birth certificate there will help of course, but yes really." Buck's throat tightened with emotion, "I have to tell you, don't _ever_  call her by the name on that. We haven't gotten it legally changed to Angelina yet. It's an alright name when it's used for others. She's heard of the Virgin Mary, but it's a horrible trigger when you address _her_  by it."  
  
Steve nodded solemnly, "Angelina's a better name." He said easily. "It suits her. You named her that, didn't you?"  
  
"I did...rather, the Soldier did, but...yeah. Either way you look at it." Buck shrugged. "I knew you'd accept, but thank you. I just want someone to be able to take care of her if anything happened to me. Don't give me that look, Steve."  
  
"Nothing's going to happen and even if it did, I don't think Angelina would let it happen." Steve said shaking his head from side to side. "I wouldn't dare let anything happen to you. You gotta know that."  
  
_'If something did, you have a reason to live this time...'_ Buck sighed deeply, "All in all, this is going to be profound. We can announce it at the party? Angel wants to have it at our apartment."  
  
"She's not very happy with mine and as much as she likes Bruce and Sam, she doesn't know them well. Well, she doesn't know Bruce well. She probably feels like she's over stepping on Sam." Steve said sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Compact apartments are probably smaller and safer. I know sometimes I want to have a small, compact space for myself. It's easier to manage than too much space. I don't even know what to do with it all. But, in answer to your question. Yes. We'll announce it at the party."  
  
Zan brought out the drinks and she placed it in front of them. "Angelina's birthday party right? Dylan and Angelina practically had an emoji war over it and that's because they decided to group me in the same message." She smiled brightly. "Do you need her at all during the day, Buck? I have an idea of what I want to do with her, but...it might be an all morning some stuff in the afternoon thing. Unless you want to have family time?"  
  
"It's her day. I don't mind. It'd give me time to decorate." Buck smiled at Zan, taking his drink, "If you don't have anything _you're_  gunna do, Steve, you...could...come help me."  
  
"I'd love to. I'd owe you that anyway since you'll be shopping with me." Steve grinned and turned to Zan. "What's your plan that requires you to take her for the whole day?"  
  
"Girls' day." Zan said with a smile. "She needs to be pampered by a professional. Not my clumsy way of doing one." She knocked on the table as she walked off.  
  
"Zan is going to make Angel into a proper girl." Buck chuckled deeply, taking a good sip, "I might have to play dad and reign Dylan in when he starts drooling. He's already texted me telling me he's going to bake the cake."  
  
"He adores her." Steve smiled warmly. "You know, I wager that he's going to ask her to marry him in November."  
  
"Hell I hope he waits a _bit_  longer than that!" Bucky made a horrified face, "They act as though they've been together for years, but there's people who are together for six years instead of six months and they break up. I trust him but I just want them to take their time a little bit."  
  
Steve nodded, "So, when do you think he should ask her? I know you said a bit of time, but...I want to know what your "bit" looks like."  
  
"At least get through the holidays...maybe after Valentines. That sounds cheesy I know, but that's roughly seven to eight months. That's a decent amount of time, right?" Buck winced.  
  
Steve blinked, then his smile widened. "You haven't lost it."  
  
"Lost...what?" Buck blinked at him. "I mean...Nick told me Rebecca and her husband got engaged before they even reached a year so...if it's a Barnes thing then..."  
  
"Almost all of your family got married quick. Ally and Nick were just trying their hardest to wait for us, but that's not what I meant." Steve shook his head. "I'm talking about your sense of romance. You never would dare call it cheesy. Getting engaged in February is something you'd do too." He smiled warmly. "But yeah that's enough time. We'll just have to see who gets closer."  
  
"That's for sure." Buck nodded with a shy smile. "I look forward to this party. I'm glad I made you happy." That was all he really wanted out of this, to make Steve happy, because he didn't want to be someone who made him sad.

* * *

On the morning of August 25th around 8, Angelina was dragged from her apartment by an enthusiastic Zan who said that she had the perfect plan for her birthday and told her to come with her. One bus ride later and Angelina was staring in awe as they walked into a salon. It was a small hole in the wall that had decent pricing for cuts and for hairstyles. It was cramped with five rows of chairs and long mirrors that went on the wall. The salon had bright white lights, and bright white walls with messy aluminum tiling on the floor. It wasn't the most expensive place on the planet, but Angelina could tell from the way the stylists were thinking that they were good at what they did.  
  
Zan decided on getting her hair trimmed, since it had so many split ends (not that Angelina knew what that was). Angelina on the other hand asked the stylist -Hannah- to give her a shoulder length hair cut, her bangs trimmed and if she could dye it brown.  
  
“Brown? Really?” Zan asked when she heard the color. “What about something wild, like sky blue or bright bubble gum pink.”  
  
“I thought white was a wild color.” Angelina frowned as she looked over at her friend.  
  
“It is, but you could go crazier. You have the perfect color for it. Are you sure you want to dye it brown?” Zan looked at her curiously.  
  
“I think I want normal hair for once.” Angelina mused. “I don’t really know what brown will look on me.”  
  
Hannah handed Angelina a book that was filled with colors that she could do that would make her hair brown. She mused over a few of them before she found one. “This.” She pointed at a chocolate brown color that had just a bit of red in it. Not too much, but enough to give it some dimension.  
  
"That's a beautiful color, it'll go well with your complextion too." Hannah mused as she looked at the book and ran her fingers again through Angelina's hair. "Your hair feels dry so we're going to wash it. Did you ever dye your hair before?"  
  
"No." Angelina shook her head. "My white hair is natural."  
  
"That explains the brittleness." Hannah said quietly. "Okay, let's get you all fixed up."  
  
She never had her hair washed by someone other than her father, but it was so nice. Hannah's nails didn't scratch her scalp too badly and the massage felt wonderful. It felt like a deeper cleansing than her normal hair wash routine was. The only downside to it was it was hard to talk with Zan underneath the running water. Once both girls were done getting their hair washed, and were guided back to the chairs, Zan took over the conversation again.  
  
“Was your original hair color brown?” She asked as her stylist, Matt, started combing her hair, being gentle and starting at the ends and working her way up.  
  
“I think so. I don’t remember the exact color. But I’m pretty sure it was.” Angelina frowned, looking at Zan through the mirror. Hannah was doing the same, her thoughts careful on the cut that she was going to do. Her mind was methodical, much like how Matt’s was about the type of hair that they had, the kind of technique would get the cut that they need or want, and for Hannah and Angelina, the type of color formula needed in order to get the brown. “Are you sure you’re okay with me dying my hair?”  
  
“I saved up money.” Zan waved her hand. “I wanted to do a girl’s day with you for, forever. I knew you were having problems with crowds, but you did _awesome_  on the bus.”  
  
“Sam gave me an idea and told me that music helps. I borrowed Dylan’s iPod.” Angelina grinned.  
  
“Isn’t his taste in music weird?” Zan wrinkled her nose. “I hate the indie stuff. It’s so…”  
  
“You play guitar.” She frowned at her friend. “You can’t say you don’t like indie music. That’s all indie music is sometimes.”  
  
“Dylan needs to learn guitar or something.” Zan grinned. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll spare you Dylan’s taste in music and I’ll let you listen to my iPod on our way to the spa place I’m taking you to.”  
  
“Spa?”  
  
“Yeah. It’s not like a real spa with massages and stuff. But manicures, pedicures, facials. Maybe eyebrows. I know I need it.” Zan grumbled touching her eyebrows. “Luckily they had a package deal and a discount if I brought a friend so I’m actually saving money than I am spending too much.”  
  
“You didn’t have to go all out.” Angelina admonished. “I’m happy with just this.”  
  
“You need to be spoiled and Bucky’s not going to have the patience to just sit while you make yourself pretty.” Zan rolled her eyes. “Besides, consider this a starter package.”  
  
“Starter?”  
  
“Yeah. Once you feel how this goes, you might just do more.” Zan grinned.  
  
“Maybe…” Angelina mused.  
  
It took Angelina hours for her to get done, and by the time that they were through with that, all of the morning had finally passed and it was almost noon now. Angelina kept feeling her hair, noting that it was straight with a feeling of a soft, silky texture that she didn’t get with her shampoos and conditioners. She didn’t realize how badly damaged her hair was from not being taken care of for years. Washing it and maintaining it was only the surface. She was advised to find a deep conditioning mask for her hair so that she could get some of the oils back into it.  
  
“You look so pretty. That brown really makes your freckles pop and your eyes.” Zan gushed. “Maybe you were right to go the normal route. I’m still sad you didn’t go wild.”  
  
“Maybe next time.” Angelina promised. “I don’t know if I’ll get my brown hair again.”  
  
“Besides dying it? The stress is that bad?” Zan frowned, “I thought that if your hair turns white, the color would come back.”  
  
“I don’t know. I had white hair longer than brown.” Angelina explained. “Where do we go now?” She hoped to distract Zan’s thoughts from anything too awful.  
  
“Spa place.” Zan grinned. “Come on, I know the bus we need to take.”

* * *

The spa place was actually called a nail salon that offered some facials for easing to relaxation, but Angelina could understand why Zan would call it a “spa” place. It certainly had the atmosphere of one, due to Angelina doing some research about what a spa place might look like. The music was soft and ambient, the walls were a rich brown and the technicians were all attentive. They were also all Taiwanese.  
  
Angelina fount out that her technician indeed came from Taiwan and she was studying abroad. She spoke in the same broken English Angelina had, and it was quite nice to talk to someone who as also a stranger in this strange land. They compared foods, drinks, and even manners. Zan didn’t get to say much since she was American born and pure, but she certainly had a few laughs about what they were talking about, agreeing that yeah…America was strange.  
  
The facial had been weird, but the pedicure along with the small foot massage had been lovely. Angelina was a little apprehensive about the manicure as she knew that the nail paint would chip faster and easier than it would on her toes. She balked at the idea of having fake nails as well. Her real nails needed care and tending too. Fake nails just didn’t look nice.  
  
Though they did look nice on Zan’s hand. But that was Zan.  
  
“Now we’re doing your make up. Come on. We’re going to go to a make up store and seeing if we can’t use their samples.” Zan said once they exited the store. She forced Angelina to wait outside, like she did for the salon so that Angelina couldn’t see the price.  
  
“Samples?”  
  
“Yeah.” Zan grinned brightly. “A lot of make up stores have a counter where you can try their make up. It’s free and it’s no hassle. Also, if you find a product that you like or a color that you think looks good, you’ll know the brand and everything so you won’t have to spend hours and hours looking for the right foundation.”  
  
“Foundation?” Angelina frowned, “It took you hours to find that?”  
  
“Yeah. You have to have the right shade or something close. Though if you’re cosplaying you can go either one to two shades lower than your natural foundation or two shades higher than your natural shading. Meaning pale or tan.” Zan explained.  
  
“But to do that you find the base.” Angelina nodded her head. “Got it. So, we find the make up counter. How do we get to the store? Bus?”  
  
“Bus.” Zan nodded and grinned as they reached the bus stop and sat down on the bench. ‘We’ll wait for the first one that comes our way. Most of them all past the store so it doesn’t matter the route. We’ll pick the bus with the shortest way to get there though, okay?”  
  
“Sounds good.” Angelina nodded and sat down next to Zan on the bench waiting for the bus to arrive.

* * *

The day was already interesting when Dylan walked in and Bucky and Steve were standing on the couch. They were _supposed_  to be hanging up decorations, but someone's hand had brushed the other's and they were staring at each other like they were the sun and moon.  
  
It was odd having Steve there and Bucky wasn't actively avoiding him. Bucky was _talking_  to Steve. After almost two months of knowing them, Dylan was used to Bucky going 'not yet, not yet' and it had been a huge shock already having them text each other, let alone talking on the phone.  
  
He supposed if Angie was the one taking a break and going her own pace now, it was Bucky's turn to bound forward through the hardships.  
  
As he was setting the last candle in place, there was a knock on the door. Zan and Angie were back from their girl day. The only pictures he'd gotten were of Zan's little makeover, but Angie was a total surprise which was fine. Steve yelled 'just a minute' and Dylan snatched up the lighter, clicking it on as Bucky dashed for the lights. After all 19 candles were lit up, Dylan made his way to the couch and sat down, cake on the coffee table. Steve and Bucky joined him on either side. Zan would get the switch Bucky had just turned off when she rounded the corner.  
  
When they did, he was okay being momentarily blinded as the three of them jumped up, arms reaching for the ceiling in a sort of 'do the wave' motion, all yelling along with Zan, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"  
  
Angelina gasped when they stood up with their hands in the air. Steve was grinning wildly, and her father was looking bashful like he coudln't believe that he did that as well as how excited he was to celebrate his daughter's birthday for the first time. Dylan had no qualms about the hiding and popping out, but she did notice that he was staring at her in surprise as her new appearance was starting to sink in. "Thank you!" She beamed happy as she looked at her family. She noticed that her father was also staring at her in shock and she felt a little nervous. "Thank you! Uncle Steve you're here!" She grinned brightly.  
  
"I wasn't about to miss out on your birthday. Tony wanted me to drag you to the Tower for a bash, but Bruce and Nat talked him out of it." Steve beamed back. "Look at you..." His voice turned soft. "For a moment I could've sworn I was looking at Becca."  
  
"Hey, Angie..." Dylan's voice was full of awe, and he looked star-struck, his mind not blank but slow like molasis. 'She's so beautiful...camera...yeah...' like he forgot she could read minds. "I gotta be your camera man for this. Is it in it's usual place?"  
  
Angelina blinked slowly, she wasn't used to having her picture taken. "Um...yes." She nodded and smiled slowly and she looked at her father and Steve. "It's okay if takes pictures right?"  
  
"I'll probably be taking some on my phone too." Steve admitted. "If that's cool with you, Angel."  
  
"It's fine..." Angelina nodded slowly.  
  
"You should hurry and get that camera. Otherwise Angelina won't be able to blow out the candles cuz the cake's on fire." Zan said with only a hint of sarcasm.  
  
Bucky motioned for Angelina to take Dylan's place as he quickly bolted for their room, and Steve fumbled to get his phone from his pocket. He couldn't focus on much besides his daughter. Tears were prickling but he held it back. She was lovely. She really did...look like his daughter. "Can definitely tell that's my nose..." he murmured with a weak chuckle.  
  
Zan beamed happily and once everyone was ready and around the cake, they sang. Steve had a horrible singing voice, but Bucky at least could carry a tune. Zan was more or less in tune with Bucky, but Dylan was too busy snapping pictures to even sing, let alone look away from Angelina for more than five seconds. Angelina took a moment, a deep breath, and blew out the candles the best that she could. Steve looked over at Bucky whose eyes were getting more watery as the moment progressed and he walked over and nudged his best friend in the arm with his elbow.  
  
"I'm...sad she had to dye her hair for it to look like mine, but I'm just...so happy because _she_  looks happy and healthy. You saw Rebecca, probably because of her freckles, but I...I also got a memory of Ali, how she looked prim and proper, her hair all done up and nails polished and makeup on point." Buck rubbed his eyes as the twins took a moment to hug Angelina.  
  
"Ally had ways to do hair." Steve agreed with that. "Her make up too. Nick showed me pictures of their wedding day." He watched as Dylan started combing Angelina's hair with his fingers and how Angelina was talking animatedly about the stylist that she had and Zan's day. "I'm actually surprised that Zan didn't manage to talk to Angelina about going more crazy with the hair color. I seen some _real_  interesting colors since I woke up. I thought Angelina would be more drawn to that...but...I can see why she didn't want to."  
  
"Y-Yeah." Bucky didn't say much more. He really didn't have to. So, he slid the candles from the cake and placed them on a separate plate, taking one and sucking on the frosting on the bottom, then took the knife and started cutting pieces for them all.  
  
"You're hair is so soft!" Dylan marveled, "It looks more like Bucky's, all shiny and fluffy! The stylists gave you the list of stuff they used? We should totally get it for you. Oh, oh, yeah, cake! Eat cake then presents!" He beamed at her, "Did you like how the cake looked? I baked it, so it should taste good!"  
  
"I did." Angelia beamed happily. "They gave me a list. Zan made notes on her phone and she's gonna text it to me in a little bit. Let's pass around the cake." She was pleased to know that the cake was strawberry and the frosting was buttercream. Angelina's favorite.  
  
"Your nail color is pretty." Dylan added when he was finally able to look somewhere other than her face, "Your makeup makes the blue in your eyes pop out, too. Zan's usually pretty good with makeup. She always does mine for me when I cosplay."  
  
Angelina was surprised he noticed so much, and she grinned at him. "Zan is a magician." She agreed. "We went to a store she's found of and they had a make up counter. We tried on foundations, and other things. She wrote things down too so if I wanted to do my best and start my own collection, I have an idea of what I'm looking for. I didn't know what nail color to pick, but Mali gave me suggestions."  
  
"Zan threatens me that when we're old enough to drink that she'll paint my nails pink one day." Dylan laughed, "Turn me into some sort of pretty pretty princess."  
  
Angelina frowned and tilted her head, "I don't know. Maybe. We'll see if it happens. You might not look good in a dress."  
  
"If he's cross-playing he does." Zan muttered.  
  
Dylan's face flushed, "Shut up, Suzie. I'm glad she can't read images and just words."  
  
Bucky just gaped at him for using Zan's most hated nickname, fork halfway to his mouth.  
  
"You are sooo lucky that this is Angie's birthday, but when we get home, you _better_  lock your door and hide." Suzanna warned. "Cuz if I get a hold of you, you're gonna be _begging_  for mercy."  
  
Angelina gasped dramatically. "Not the figurines!"  
  
"If I can't get him, I might." Zan said viciously.  
  
"If you catch me I'll even let you take pictures of me, but show mercy on the figurines," Dylan looked horrified.  
  
Zan leaned back against the couch, satisfied. She took a bite of her cake.  
  
Angelina stared and she looked at Dylan worriedly, "Scary."  
  
_'I haven't played with her like that in a while, it was kinda fun even if I'm gunna regret it later.'_ Dylan gave her a lopsided smile back, also taking a bite of his cake.  
  
Angelina smiled brightly and she looked over at Steve and her father. They were sitting close together. Her father was just reeling over how she changed her hair, and how she looked. Steve was, as always, focused on her father. His mind not once strayed into the bad territory. It was nice to see Steve relax. For once.  
  
After they had their fill of sweet cake, Bucky was the fastest at getting up to get his gift. A variety selection of bubble bath and body wash. A gift receipt was also in there in case she didn't like any of them.  
  
He didn't bother wrapping them, but had placed them in a very beautiful gift bags. She had 3 bubble-bath and 3 body-wash duos which could be either one or another. One was scented with vanilla spice, another like Sakura, the other had a nice floral scent that was mixed in with strawberries. It wasn't overly strong, but soft. The other three were Moonlight Path, which had a nice floral scent with some musk here and there, peaches, and of course her all time favorite French Lavender and Honey, the best thing to use for her restless nights. She set her bath set aside and she hugged her father tightly. "I'm gonna try them all!" She grinned, "Thank you so much. They smell really good. I can't wait to try them."  
  
"Your Uncle Steve had a hand in a couple of those when I was indecisive. I am glad you like them, I was a bit worried I was getting you a silly gift." Bucky hugged her back gently.  
  
"Any girl would love that." Zan assured as Angelina nodded her agreement. "Any. Steve was that a combination present or did you grab something for her?"  
  
"I did." Steve handed her a small square box. "I wanted to get you earrings, but Bucky reminded me that you don't have your ears pierced and necklaces were just too hard to judge so...I'm sorry I'm giving it away. Go on, I can't take the suspense."  
  
Angelina quickly unwrapped the gift and she slowly opened the box to reveal a silver chain bracelet. On the chain was three charms that were already placed on. There was a yellow duck with a silver backing, a silver stack of books, and a camera. "A charm bracelet!" Angelina gushed. "I read about them."  
  
"Yeah, I know you like collecting memories and this is just another way in case you don't have your camera or anything." Steve rubbed the back of his neck. "I hope it encourages you to travel and want to go places too, since a lot of places do carry charms. It's not...common as it used to be, but there are still people who collect charms and make them into bracelets. I thought you'd appreciate it."  
  
"I like it!" Angelina grinned as she took it out of the case. She went over to Steve and held her left hand. "Put it on me? Please?"  
  
Steve took the bracelet and attached it to her wrist. The moment it was on, Angelina hugged him tightly and he held her back, rocking her from side to side. "Happy Birthday Angel." He murmured and let her go.  
  
"Me next!" Dylan chirped, grabbing two boxes from under the coffee table and sliding them to her.  
  
Angelina opened one of the boxes first and burst out laughing. "It's Alphonse with a neko!" She gushed as she took it out. "So soft." She hugged to her body and squealed loudly. "It's so cuddly too!" She took it away from her. He was sitting with the cat, his metal cheeks holding a black squiggly line blush. "Oh so cute. I like this one. I never had things stuffed before. That's so cool." She set it aside and she opened the other box and let out another squeal. "Happy Edward!"  
  
Zan cracked up laughing, "He couldn't pick between the two Alphonse's he liked them both. He was going to get you the standing one, but I told him that the sitting one would be easier for you to display."  
  
"Yeah, and you can't have one of the brothers without the other. They're a sort of package deal. Ed always looks so pissy, so I wanted yo to have one with him smiling for once." Dylan beamed and leaned over, kissing Angelina's cheek while she was distracted. Gasps filled the room. "My other present is I want you to be my girlfriend. It's been up in the air and we haven't confirmed anything."  
  
Zan choked on her last bit of cake and had to start coughing while Steve was giving Bucky a look with a raised eyebrow going up. Angelina could hear her Uncle Steve thinking about something about it being close to November after all...whatever that meant. Her father's mind was carefully blank, probably because he was probably trying to let her decide for herself.  
  
Dylan's cheeks turned pink again and he shifted. "I mean. We can wait a bit longer if ya want. That's okay, too."  
  
Angelina thought about it, "We spend lots of time together. You help me with some really bad things. We have a lot of things in common too. I know you're not doing this because you think you deserve it for everything you done. So. Okay."  
  
"Don't you say anything." Bucky shoved Steve's shoulder.  
  
"Sore loser already?" Steve teased him.  
  
"I am sure I could quickly remember where your tickle spots are, Rogers."  
  
"Don't you dare." Steve stood up quickly and moved so that he was sitting on the other side of Zan. "Ha! Now you can't get me."  
  
"You think that, don't you?" Bucky's smirk was wicked and he stood up slowly. "I'm sure Zan recognizes danger when she sees it."  
  
Zan quietly stood up and walked away from the couch and sat down on Angelina's lap. "I will squish your spawn if you try to attack me." She warned.  
  
Angelina spluttered. "Spawn?! I'm not an alien!"  
  
"Zan! You were supposed to protect me!" Steve gave her a "America is disappointed" look.  
  
"Hell no."  
  
Dylan had his hand over his mouth, but he couldn't contain his laughter any longer when Bucky pounced at Steve.  
  
Especially since Steve shrieked with a high pitched sound and they toppled off the couch. "Bucky Buck no! No!" He laughed and squealed. "Bucky!"  
  
"YOU STILL SOUND LIKE A GIRL."  
  
"Are they children or grown men?" Zan asked curiously.  
  
"Both." Angelina nodded, "Now that Uncle Steve isn't in the sad apartment."  
  
"We don't grow up," Dylan confirmed.  
  
"Well, I know you two won't." Zan teased. "Angelina's too cute to grow up and you...well....it's going to be awkward seeing you as an old man, Dyl."  
  
"You'll be that sassy old lady with a plethra of dogs instead of cats in some country cottage." Dylan nodded.  
  
"Dogs are amazing creatures," Zan sniffed. "Unlike cats, which for some reason come to you like you're a piece of tuna or something."  
  
"Zan, why don't you get Angie your present?" Dylan stuck his tongue out and he chanced a peek over the coffee table with the camera, snapping a few pictures while Steve was still squirming to get away.  
  
"So I had this planned out way before I decided to do the girl's day." Zan explained as she picked up her gift. Her gift was longer than everyone else's and a little thicker too. "Sorry." She said sheepishly. "I also included a gift card in it. It's only twenty dollars, it isn't much, so you might be better off finding the make up at a drug store or something. It's really cheap there if you wanted to go for it."  
  
Angelina carefully tore off the wrapping paper and the first thing that fell out was the gift card she mentioned. "Oh wow..." She said softly as she carefully opened the box. Inside was a palette of four rows of four different colored eyeshadow. They all were basically in the same pallet so it was easy to see which one went with which color, but it was gorgeous. There was a neutral, two fun ones, and one pallet for the smokey eye. "So cool." She gushed. "I should get brushes and things like that." She mused. "That's awesome. Thank you, Zan, The day out was enough though."  
  
"You needed something to jump start you with." Zan laughed as she hugged her friend and let her go. "So, we have one more present for you, but it's not from me and Dyl." She gestured over to the two men who were out of breath. "It's from them. I got nosey so that's why I know about it."  
  
Bucky was finally leaning away from Steve, both of them panting and chuckling. Bucky's expression was fond, and when Steve managed to sit up his face matched. "Yes! I heard that. C'mon Stevie."  
  
"I thought you were doing the announcement or...is this a one two three thing?" Steve asked raising an eyebrow as he managed to get up off of the floor.  
  
They hadn't thought about that. That was a good question. "Well, Angel love...I asked Steve a very important question. Of course he agreed. It's something that tends to involve the church, but it's also a legal prospect..." He smiled softly, "There's your introduction, Steve."  
  
"Not that Bucky and I are going to start forcing you to attend. I don't go and Bucky can't go." Steve quickly assured at Angelina's confused expression. "But...uh...Bucky asked me if it was alright if I could be your godfather. Which means if...something happens to him...medically or something...I could care for you. Normally godfathers are assigned when the children are really young, but we...didn't get that chance and even though you're a legal adult now, Bucky still wanted me to be your protector just in case. Is...that alright?"  
  
_'Just in case he gets prosecuted, too, Steve will have legal standing to keep you safe.'_ Dylan added mentally, his face tender. He was the realist while Steve kept viciously rebuking any such thing. _'It's still a beautiful offer. Means **so** much considering how they grew up.'_  
  
Angelina smiled over at Dylan and turned to Steve. "I'm in your hands then." Angelina beamed and Steve brought her into a tight hug which made her squeak in surprise.  
  
Some tension in Bucky's shoulders relaxed and he leaned over to join the hug, making it a group thing. "You two can get it taken care of next chance you get."  
  
"Definitely." Steve sniffed as he carefully pulled away. His eyes were watery but he wasn't crying. He was close to it. "Definitely." He repeated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY I TAKE SO LONG TO POST THINGS GUYS


	15. Precious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Companion for the Companion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, from here on out, to anyone who reads this, I'm considering this story "raw" as in unedited. Unless there is a serious mistake or a missing paragraph, which you can write a comment for. Besides that, I don't have the time.

"Query: _Why_  is your hair brown?"

Angelina frowned as she looked over her shoulder. Her hair was short and was in a low ponytail to keep away from the frying pan. She recognized the mental patterns of the Soldier and the way he spoke, and it made her worried. "Change." She explained. "Wanted to look more like you and was tired of the white. People looked sad when they saw my white hair and my scars. I can't change my scars. So...hair."

"You could wear arm coverings? There's lace ones or mesh to keep cool. Winter is coming, though, so it is an idea." Soldier tilted his head at her. He was still in his sleep wear, and he rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palm, "Appears I've switched again...but it's not as startling as before. I know that this is our apartment. I'm not tense or worried about covering my back. Safe space."  
  
He didn't answer at first, brows knitted tightly together, mouth slightly down-turned. Stepping over and being careful not to disturb her cooking, he touched her hair. Something not even Bucky had done yet, and he marveled at it, blinking curiously. He stroked his fingers through it like Dylan had, but didn't quite play with it. "It's...soft. Like mine. The sun catches it and makes it look real pretty."  
  
Angelina beamed happily, "Hannah gave me treatments to make it soft. Products. Nothing dangerous." She assured lightly. "I'm glad you like it." She leaned a little into his touch as she folded the ingredients into the omelette and waited for it to cook a little more before flipping it and setting it down. "Hungry?"  
  
"Yeah...that smells pretty good. Do we have enough eggs for two hungry supers?" Soldier asked and went to the fridge, pulling out the jug of apple juice and then also grabbed a glass.  
  
"We should..." Angelina frowned, looking over at the egg carton. "Enough for four omelettes including the one in the pan. Grocery shopping."  
  
"Alright. We need to go shopping often don't we? We haven't been found yet..." Soldier furrowed his brows again, "Things feel like they've been too easy."  
  
"Why would they look for us in America?" Angelina countered. "Too obvious. They'd think to go somewhere else. Slovakia. Romania. Brazil. Places we're not familiar with."  
  
"They don't usually expect people to come back to the scene of the crime." Soldier hummed as he drank his juice in contemplation, "It's...odd. I'm out, but I don't feel some driving need or emergency. I'm...relaxed. I don't understand."  
  
"Confusing?" Angelina frowned as she placed the omelette that she cooked onto a plate. She absently slid it over to him so he could take it. "I don't know. Maybe you thought I was a stranger?"  
  
"Possible." Soldier agreed absently and also grabbed a fork, "You look...so different. The more I look at you, it seems to suit you. You're brighter. You also blend in more here, like you are starting to belong."  
  
Angelina frowned as she cracked more eggs into the frying pan and carefully cooked them so that she could start adding ingredients to make herself an omelette. "That's not bad though." She said slowly. "Right? That's a good thing? I like the color." She mused. "I haven't tried to wear make up since that day. I don't know if I should spend so much money on things like that....figurines and other things are different. A lot are gifts and found on Ebay."  
  
"It's a good thing. Yes. I don't mean to make it sound like it isn't. I'm just...I don't know. It will take time to get used to. I am sure...the other side of me is also going to take some time." Soldier assured, and took a bite of his food and moved towards the couch. "It's good." He praised, "Long way from cooking over a firepit."  
  
Angelina laughed, a bit startled. "It is." She agreed. "Very hard to make things over it without burning it, or worse." Once she was done with hers, she sat down across from him and frowned. "...Can I give you a name other than Soldier?" She asked, a little hesitantly.  
  
He blinked at her slowly, another piece of food in his mouth, so he only nodded at her, his eyes curious.  
  
"Do you like the name James?" Angelina asked, tilting her head to see how he'd react.  
  
"Isn't that...the name of the other me?" Of course some things would be lost in translation between himself and his other half.  
  
"He doesn't want it anymore." Angelina explained. "He said Bucky's a better name."  
  
"You were used to James, and the shock upsets you?" he asked, "You can call me that."  
  
"James- _tată_." Angelina confirmed. "So you don't get mixed up with _tată_. I like James. It's a good name. Bucky is Bucky." She shrugged. "You need a name anyway. James is a name attached to the person." She pointed at him. "So, yeah."  
  
"James, then..." he hummed, "I...don't mind that at all." He nodded and continued to eat his food. After a bit he looked at her with a tilt of his head, "Are you going anywhere today?"  
  
"I don't know. Grocery shopping is a must. I might spend time looking at the cheap section of make up...see if it's something I want to pursue, but I think lazy day at home otherwise." Angelina mused, putting a finger to her chin. "But I'm worried about you. You haven't switched back. Usually when you confirm something, you switch back. You're not switching. It's not a bad thing, but it's concerning."  
  
"Maybe we should do more. There's a lot of things I haven't done." James' mouth turned into a thin line, "The last time I was out I hurt Steve."  
  
Angelina nodded, "What do you want to try doing? Grocery shopping can be the last thing we do. You haven't been to the library yet. Dyl-dal showed me an arcade. But...uh...what are you interested in? I don't think I ever asked that before."  
  
"Things were never about what I was interested in..." James' shoulders drooped. He glanced at the clock, "Steve would be done with his run by now...that coffee shop I have been to, and spoke with Zan once or twice. I don't want to go there. The day looked nice. It is not yet rainy season."  
  
"No don't be sad. We'll find out something. Let's walk around the city." Angelina assured. "You do the leading. I follow. We go into whatever your interested in. If you want to go to the gardens, I know the way. We can grab lunch somewhere, too. It'll be okay."  
  
James watched her carefully, "I want...to...apologize to Steve." He said slowly. "It has been a long time, hasn't it? Things I said...don't apply anymore. I know I made contact as Bucky. It feels awkward if I did it as...me."  
  
"I have his number." Angelina frowned, "Or do you want to see him face to face? He'd be at the cafe probably. You didn't want to go in there."  
  
"Would he like the gardens?" James asked hesitantly.  
  
"He told me about them." Angelina nodded. "He might go. I can text him and tell him to meet us there if you want me to."  
  
"Yes. You could talk to him first for a bit, and then I will work myself up to coming out to him." James agreed.  
  
Angelina nodded her agreement and finished her omelette so that she could go into their shared bedroom and text her uncle Steve. **_Do you want to come with us to the gardens today? The ones you told me about?_**  
  
It took a few moments. **_Sure. Is it just you? Do you need me to pick you up?_**  
  
**_No. It's me and James._**  Angelina typed back.  
  
**_???_**  Was all Steve sent.  
  
**_You'll see._**  Angelina promised before going back out. "Steve said he will."  
  
"Then I'll take a shower and get dressed." James put his plate in the sink and hurried to the bathroom.

* * *

Something was...off. Angelina was chipper and was happy to take the lead around the park, but Steve noticed that Bucky -or was it Bucky- was on guard. Bucky's? eyes were trained forward, but he could tell that Bucky? was glancing around to make sure that they weren't being followed by any Hydra. His hands were stuffed into his pockets and he barely spoke five words to Steve, if not four. Steve wondered if that's why Angelina called him out to the garden. "You did good coming out today, Buck." Steve decided to say carefully.  
  
"Not Bucky." Angelina called from her position at the front.  
  
James shifted. He wasn't quite uncomfortable, but he was...was this identified as shy? Nervous? Anxious? He really had no idea. "It's...James..." he explained. Describing himself as something other than the Soldier was odd.  
  
"Oh. I thought..." Steve felt his shoulders slump. "Is it okay if I hug Bu-James? I promise to give you room to run away if you need it..."  
  
Did he think...? He shook his head, "No, that's not..." he pulled one hand out and tapped his temple, "Bucky...Bucky is here..." he promised.  
  
"Um..." Steve looked confused. "So...you're the Soldier right now? And what's why you're called James? Because Bucky wanted to use his nickname?"  
  
"I..." James hesitated. "I...just...woke up and I was like this, but there hasn't been...any urgency. Anzhelina gave me this name, because Bucky wanted to be Bucky."  
  
Steve nodded slowly, "Well, I think it suits you." He said with a smile. "Bucky always hated the name, but it fits you quite nicely. I wonder why you decided to come out..." He looked over where he thought Angelina was and he blinked. "Um..." He looked over his shoulder. Did they lose her? In this garden?  
  
"She's around...she's waiting for me..." James sighed deeply. "I asked if we could be out here together. I wanted to...talk...about...the last time I was out."  
  
Steve frowned looking at him, "The wall punch? You didn't hurt me, Bu-James." He quickly corrected himself.  
  
"I...wanted to apologize." James clarified. "I said...a lot of things as well. There have been a lot of changes. We have an apartment, we aren't bouncing between hotels anymore. Anzhelina has been to the Tower and doesn't think it's ideal for living. She is also happy. I am...happy?" He still wasn't sure about that, but close enough. "I may not still be...safe...but it is not anything as dire as it was."  
  
"You don't have to apologize. It was stressful for all of us. She really is happier being in the apartment," Steve gently reached out and was about to touch Bucky's no James' shoulder before thinking better of it and dropping his hand. "She took one look at my apartment...and she just...went really sad. Her apartment has a lot more life to it, and I can tell she works very hard on making the apartment happy. You guys are clean freaks, and tidy as hell. But I can tell you live in it and that you do your best to make it bright. I just don't have that much time and I know Angelina prefers being near Dylan. Especially after he asked her out."  
  
"Time...you haven't been on a single mission since my attack." James gave him a sidelong glance, "You don't have any excuses. Or are you more afraid of the Tower being annihilated?"  
  
"I _was_  about going around the world looking for you till you told me you were just heading over to England to grab Angel." Steve pointed out gently. "...Not annihilated." He frowned. "If I even mention to Tony that I want to redecorate my apartment, he'd go all out and I wouldn't have too much of a say unless I managed to get to Pepper first. And then it'll be deciding about furniture and things like that, and....I like going to stores to do that." He explained. "But I think I'd just make Tony upset that I'm not using his resources. He's strange like that."  
  
"Hmm...yes. I think we lucked out when we asked you to ask him to get furniture for us, because he doesn't know us and was at a loss for what to do besides the bed firmness. Anzhelina's since replaced some of the bathroom supplies he got us with her own decor Dylan's helped her pick out. The shower curtain is purple sakura flowers."  
  
"That sounds really pretty." Steve grinned. "She's talented at making places into homes. For someone who doesn't have a reference for what one might look like, she does _really_  well. She just keeps growing, it's a no wonder Nat kinda told us to back off. Without us stifling her, she gets more bold. She reminds me a lot of you. You used to do everything at least once. You were the most adventurous out of us for trying new things. You had a hand in keeping the apartment looking like it wasn't bare and not so lived in too. I was too weak to do any upkeeping, though I did my best when I was feeling well."  
  
"Did I?" James shifted, the tiniest of smiles appearing, "If you let her she would have her way with your apartment in that Tower, though not as intense as if Stark did. Your Bucky would, too. I...want you to know, why I didn't like Bucky for a long time." He took a breath, "You sounded sad. When you said his name."  
  
"You thought you brought back painful memories?" Steve asked carefully, looking at James curiously.  
  
"The Bucky-Person made you sad, and after bashing your face in, the last thing I wanted to do was make you upset. So I called myself James because I hated the Bucky-Person for making you sad." James grunted in agreement, hunching his shoulders together and both hands were back in his pockets.  
  
Steve nodded and he looked away, wondering how to word his thoughts. They walked around for some time. They passed Angelina by the small river that had some koi in it, feeding the fish. Once they were out of ear shot, he spoke. "It wasn't the name or you that made me sad." He said after a moment. "But what was done to you and how I was powerless to save you from it."  
  
"You could have had a search party find my body...not all off the Commandos went on the train. They could've followed the bottom of the mountain." James pointed out to him. "Perhaps in some alternate time you might've thought of that. Yet you were distraught and weren't thinking clearly."  
  
Steve bowed his head, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "There wasn't a day that went by that I wish I thought of it." He said hoarsely. "I even considered jumping after you. I wish that had been an option. Instead I flew the plane into the water. I really thought you were dead, Buc-James." He corrected. "I couldn't...live with that."  
  
He took in a heavy breath, "But I sacrificed not just you to that kind of suffering. Jesus, James, the things they did to Angel...." His voice cracked. "I could live with the fact of you hating me for the rest of your life. I could live with the fact that everything that happened to you was my fault in some fashion or another. But Angel? To know that I let _your_  daughter suffer? It was crazy, James, for you to suggest that I'd be a godfather, but _fuck_  if I don't try to live up to that now."  
  
"I...it's a hard thing that pokes at my mind...I can't even remember all of it because it was so awful..." James' own voice was raw, "I fought...I fought them...until they told me you were dead. I wished for you, but then the fight left me when I thought you weren't out there searching for me." His smile was bitter, "How could I be lucky twice?"  
  
"God I'm so sorry." Steve bowed his head, a few tears streaked down his face. "I'm so sorry. You fought so hard, and you continued fighting till the Chair...and you still fought sometimes. I read the file, you sometimes went rouge for no reason. I think you were still fighting, even when you thought that you weren't anymore. You're so strong James. So, so strong. I'm just so sorry I didn't think. That I didn't go searching for you. But I know Bucky would tell me that it wasn't all too bad. Since you got Angelina out of it. I know you wouldn't trade her for anything."  
  
"No...neither side of me would." James agreed, and he stopped them with a gentle hand on Steve's shoulder. He looked surprised, and he touched Steve's tears like they were some foreign concept and he'd never seen someone cry before. He wiped them away gently, and then ducked his head as if he was embarrassed. "You'll never forgive yourself...but I forgive you."  
  
Steve laughed shakily and he shook his head, "Thank you." He said gently. "Bucky's heard me say this before, but you should hear it too. You raised Angelina so well. She's so filled with love and happiness. I don't think I ever seen her without a smile yet. I'm sure she has her bad days, we all do. But you did so well with her. I just wanted you to know that Hydra wasn't able to take everything from you. You're a good father to her."  
  
"If you think so, it must be true, huh?" James chuckled softly, "Natalia said the same. I remember Bucky getting all emotional like he had done a horrible job and was being too pushy. She put him in his place." He motioned to the path again, "I feel...lighter. I am glad I came out today."  
  
Steve was grinned brightly and was about to open his mouth to say something when he heard Angelina let out a sharp squeal. He turned his head and he watched as Angelina dove after...something. He raised an eyebrow up and turned to James. "Want to go see if she found a duck?" Just as he said that he could pick up tiny mewls and he frowned. "Or a cat."  
  
"Oh no." It was the only thing he could think of, and the two of them jogged back towards where his daughter was. He was surprised since it _was_  a cat she'd found, that it hadn't scratched her all to hell. Instead, it was shaking and curling into the hair on her neck.

It was actually a baby kitten. If Steve had to guess, it was about four to five months, maybe even three. It was tiny and really fluffy. It had a cute face and it was a calico. The kitten's stomach was the whitest part, but it's markings were dark and vivid. Angelina held the kitten close to her. "She's so scared." She said quietly. "She must be away from it's family, but I don't hear any other cats."  
  
"Looks like it needs food and water too." Steve said, kneeling next to Angelina and using the pad of his forefinger to pet the kitten's head. It's purrs were loud like a motor. "It doesn't look like anyone's really taking care of it. It's a bit dirty too."  
  
"Calicos are always female." Angelina frowned. "So she's a she." She tucked her arms around the kitten a little more. "What do we do?"  
  
"We have a few options. A vet is number one priority." Steve gently scratched the cat's chin. "Then food, water. But the hard part is if you two can keep it or not. If you want to keep it, can your apartment take care of cats? If you want to keep her and can't, I can for you. I know Tony doesn't care. Clint brings Lucky sometimes and lets the dog hang out at the tower when Clint thinks we need an animal to lighten up our home. Nat's threatened me with goldfish before."  
  
"What if we don't?" Angelina gave her father a small fearful look before she looked back at Steve.  
  
"A shelter. We'll try to find one that isn't a kill." He promised. "Though your other best option is to go online and say that you have a kitten who needs a home. Give a set amount and let them know if it's been spayed or not." Steve gently patted Angelina's shoulder and turned to James. "What's your thoughts on this, James?"  
  
James tilted his head at the little thing and knelt down as well, reaching his finger out and it leaned forward to sniff his hand, and didn't freak out. "It's not gunna rip me to shreds, so that's a good thing. I'm...I would rather you wait to ask Bucky what he wants to do..." he winced, "We can make a trip to the vet together. I'm okay with that. After that, couldn't you call your Dylan to ask if the apartment accepts animals?"  
  
Angelina nodded, "But you should have an opinion too." She said as she stood up. "Vet first." She nodded, "I'll call Dylan when we get her there. Let's go! No time to waste."

Dylan hummed after Angelina rattled off what had happened. "A baby cali hmm? That's adorable. So the vet says she's alright besides being starved?"  
  
"Yeah. No worms or anything. She had to get vaccinations though." Angelina answered, kicking her legs as she sat just outside in the waiting room. "They're gonna do that right quick and then she can come home. Well. If that's an idea."  
  
"Well..." Dylan chuckled, "You should ask Steve if Mr. Stark has any psych doctors he could hook you up with. The apartments don't allow animals, or Zan and I would've had a dog a long time ago, _but_  there are a couple people who have a pet anyway and that is because they get them registered as their companion animal. You _have_  to go through a doctor for that, though. No needles, no poking and prodding, just gotta answer some questions."  
  
"Would cats be considered a companion animals? A psych doctor?" Angelina blinked slowly. "They mess with your mind right?"  
  
"It's not like that," Dylan promised, his tone gentle, "These doctors don't mess with your mind. They ask you questions, try and engage you to get you to talk about yourself. Sometimes they give you a sheet of paper to fill out to test your level of anxiety and depression. After about an hour of just chatting with you, they come up with their analysis, and if you need pills or more therapy. Because you've got your father's ability to burn through that sort of crap, you don't gotta worry about being drugged up. You'll probably get labels put on you like 'schizophrenic' and a couple other things, but just ignore it. What matters is us, okay? I want you to make sure you have that firm in your mind. You're closing in on a year being free from Hydra, you haven't gone off the deep end. You're good."  
  
"I'm not dead yet." Angelina confirmed. "I'll talk to James- _tată_ or _tată_ about that. I don't know if it'll be good or not. Uncle Steve said that if our apartment can't take care of the kitten, he'll take care of it for us, so there's that option if the psych isn't good. We'll see. It's a shame though that the apartment doesn't do animals. If we ever live together, we need an apartment that has animals."  
  
"Cats are more than considered companion animals. Just think, a companion for the Companion. That'd be so cute." Dylan cooed, "I think it'd be worth it to sit through the hour and get that baby kitty approved. Zan and I would spoil her, too. Yeah, though, talk to them. That's just my opinion. It'd be sad if Steve takes her 'cause you never go to the Tower, but on the other hand it might brighten that sad apartment. She'd bond with him instead of you, as well. There's a lot of factors."  
  
"AH!" Angelina made both Uncle Steve and her father look at her weirdly. "I forgot about the bonding! You can't touch baby ducks cuz they'd imprint on you rather than the mom! Oh no..."  
  
"She's not a duckling." Dylan laughed a bit, "She'll bond with whoever she likes most. That's what cats do. They're sassy and do what they want. She might like you more, though, because of your scent or because you found her. Sometimes cats just hate people randomly or because they don't like their smell."  
  
"Oh. Makes more sense. Dogs love everyone. I know cats are opposite of that." Angelina settled back into the chair. "I'll talk to James- _tată_ and _tată_ about the psych. It's possible the kitty might like him more too."  
  
"Good. You do that. I should get back to work, though, babe. I'll chat later, yeah?" Dylan made a smooch sound.  
  
"Bais!" Angelina did the same smooch. "Have a good day at work." She said as she hung up and looked at her uncle and her father. "Dylan says I need to see a doctor if I want to keep the kitten."  
  
James tilted his head and his mouth down-turned, "A...doctor?" he looked over at Steve, concerned.  
  
"So your apartment only lets you have pets if their registered as companion animals, right?" Steve asked Angelina and turned to James. "There are people who have trouble dealing with crowds, anxiety, depression or traumatic PSTD who have a need of a companion rather than a service animal. Companion animals are just that, companions. They're there to help you through a grocery store without freaking out and running away. Service animals help you do something. Eye-sight, seizures, things like that. So...Angelina's saying that if she wants the kitten, she's going to have to prove or your going to have to prove that you need a companion with you."  
  
"That...makes sense. Yet there's a problem...just any doctor won't work." James sighed.  
  
"I could talk to Stark and see if he knows anyone. God knows Sam knows a bunch of people as well." Steve said gently. "I think Sam would have the better resources. I love Tony to death, but he might think that it was for me and start worrying about my health more than he needs to."  
  
"Flying Sam." James immediately said, "I trust him. I may have tried to kill him, but he was a good adversary and he is your good friend. I have been the one active at the coffee shop before, as well and heard him."  
  
Steve nodded, "So, let's do this. I'll take the kitten home with me at the Tower. Angelina if you want to spend the night with me, you can or you can swing by the Tower any time to keep the kitten company. We can contact Sam and see what he says about getting you a doctor and a companion animal. Chances are you might have to wait a few weeks though, so we'll figure out away to keep you and the kitten together till then." He turned to James. "Does that sound good? Should I wait til Bucky comes back to ask him about all of this?"  
  
"I will write a notice for myself if she stays the night. Stick it on the fridge or a door." James smiled, "We could at least shop for basic kitten supplies like food and a litter box, yeah? You could stay in Steve's car while we run in and out, Angel."  
  
Steve nodded, "Someone needs to keep the kitten entertained."  
  
"It's still warm and she's real fluffy, as well." James agreed.  
  
"Okay!" Angelina beamed. "I'll stay in the car."

* * *

"She's quite soft." Bruce cooed gently as he scratched the baby kitten's ear and she tilted her head into his palm to get more.  
  
"What a pretty kitty," Natasha looked over Bruce's shoulder. "She's so fluffy her legs are hidden underneath it all." She looked over at Steve and Angelina. Angelina was on the floor, smiling brightly and Steve was on the couch, watching fondly and holding his phone up, undoubtedly either on a video-chat with Bucky or going to send the video to him. "She really makes this brown-beige apartment look ten times better. I always thought you were a dog person, Steve."  
  
"I'm an animal person," Steve corrected. "I was forever trying to drag strays back home to my mom or feeding them on the streets when I was able to. Bucky would scold me, but I caught him feeding cats before."  
  
"That does not surprise me one bit. I mean, I'm a dog person but look at this cutie!" Clint snatched her up from Bruce's attention and held her up to his face, the little thing mewing at him, "Such an adorable sound! Have you named her yet?!"  
  
"No." Angelina shook her head. "James- _tată_ was hesitant so I'll text _tată_ later tonight. He might be back by now, but I don't know. He's probably very concerned about the note James- _tată_ left. There's lots of questions to ask _tată_ before we can determine anything. She should have a name by..." She looked thoughtful. "Tomorrow is possible. I'll look up names too."  
  
"She's so fluffy, you could just name her that." Steve shrugged. "It's an easy name, it fits-"  
  
"That's a dog's name!" Angelina looked horrified.  
  
"Fluffy? Really Steve? You're worse than Hagrid naming a three-headed dog." Natasha deadpanned.  
"No worse than Hades naming his Spot." Steve retorted. "Since that's what Cerberus means."  
  
"Actually you're half-way right. It's ḱerberos." Natasha leaned back. "Regardless, you shouldn't be proud to put yourself on the bad-name list."  
  
"She's got these adorable eye markings!" Clint turned the baby kitten around and she just blinked at the crowd with her big blue eyes, "What about Bandit?"  
  
Angelina whipped around towards Clint, "She's not a Racoon!"  
  
"Tiger, maybe?" Bruce supplied with a wince.  
  
"Or Rebel?" Clint tried again.  
  
"Tiger I can live with." Angelina said slowly, "But Rebel?" She looked at the cat for a moment before she wrinkled her nose, her face contorting like she swallowed a lemon. "She's too cute to be called Rebel. Rebel's...Rebel's a grey tabby name."  
  
"Natasha?" Bruce arched a brow, "The rest of us don't seem to know how to name an animal. You going to try your hand?"  
  
"So far Bruce is winning on the name game." Natasha mused. "Steve already tried his...hmm. I don't know.  I don't think this little kitty looks like a mighty Tiger to me. What about...um....Tigger?"  
  
"That's a boy name," Bruce chuckled softly.  
  
"Tigra?" Clint beamed.  
  
"Crookshanks?" Steve offered. "Yeah the cat that Hermonie had was a boy's too, but..." He shrugged helplessly. "You could probably get away with calling her that."  
  
"Haru?" Angelina offered. "Kyo?"  
  
"I think you should give Bucky these names." Steve suggested, "And see what his suggestions might be. I think we're awful at this."  
  
"I can't tell you yes or no for those since they're Japanese. Maybe Dylan would have a better opinion." Bruce shook his head and sneakily plucked the kitten from Clint while he was pouting and brought her back over to Angelina, "For now, Haru sounds pretty."  
  
"Dylan and _tată_." Angelina nodded as she held the cat. She mewled and crawled up Angelina's shirt, on her shoulder and forced her to lean forwards so that the kitten could climb down her back and and play when Steve took out his laser light and started playing with the kitten with it. They bought the necessaries as well as some cat toys while they were out and about. "We'll see."

* * *

Angelina's phone rang at about seven am and the kitten jumped about a three feet off the bed and clawed at the sheet as it tried not to fall off but failed, landing on the floor with a soft thump and a tiny mew.  
  
"Baby!" Angelina was barely awake when she heard her phone ring, but was immediately up when the poor kitten fell off her bed and cried. She leaned over her bed and laughed a little when the kitten ran underneath her bed as the phone rang again. She rolled over and picked up her phone from her bedside table, "You scared the kitten." She scolded in greeting, not knowing who was on the other line.  
  
"Why was there a note on my fridge that said to call your phone in the morning?! Where are you? What kitten?" Bucky's slightly panicked voice answered back.  
  
"James- _tată_ , or Soldier, came out yesterday. He was...very confused as to why my hair was a different color. It triggered him into coming out." Angelina explained. "He wanted to apologize to Uncle Steve, so we went to the gardens. I found a baby kitten that needed love and a home. We don't have a name for her yet. I can give you a list. But...our apartment doesn't want animals in our apartment unless they're registered as service animals or companions. Which means seeing a psych doctor."  
  
"Oh...oh boy..." Bucky sounded like he was wiping his hand over his face, "Can you...can you come home? I really...I don't know what's going on. What is Steve doing? What does he have to say about all this?"  
  
"He's said that until we come up with a solution, he can take care of the baby." Angelina smiled from the phone and she pushed the covers off of her. "I can come home." She assured. "We didn't know when James- _tată_ was going to leave, and he assured me that he had everything under control. I guess not though. I'll be sure to let him know next time that notes aren't helpful. Do you want me to bring the kitten? I'm sure we can allow her to visit. Do you need me to bring Uncle Steve, too?"  
  
"Y-You could do that. So I know what she's like?" Bucky agreed hesitantly. "I'm really delirious still. I'll just...take this time to have something to eat and I'm going to brew coffee." He really didn't sound good, very shaky.  
  
"Coffee, shower." Angelina commanded. "Eat something real healthy for you." She stretched. "I'll be home soon, I promise. I love you."  
  
The kitten mewed sadly and waddled around the floor, looking at the bed expectantly and mewed again when Angelina turned the phone off.  
  
"I'm sorry," Angelina bent down and picked the kitten up and set her on the bed. She petted her head and gave her ears a good rub before she went to the bathroom to brush her teeth and hair (thank god for Uncle Steve having a guest room in his apartment, bathroom and some supplies.) Once she was done, she picked up the kitten. "I think Uncle Steve's awake." She said aloud. "So let's go find him and get breakfast. We'll feed you some soft food. Then, we'll head to my apartment. It's tinier than Uncle Steve's. It's another car adventure. I'm glad you don't get motion sick."  
  
The kitten mewed at her, this time happily, and curled into her arm, purring loudly.  
  
"Let's go." Angel said softly and walked out of her room.

* * *

When Angelina came around the corner, he made a sub-check to make sure she wasn't carrying anything before he wrapped her up in his arms tightly, "I woke up and the apartment was empty and I didn't know what was going on. I looked at my phone and an entire day disappeared."  
  
"I'm sorry." Angelina hugged him back fiercely. "James- _tată_ convinced us that you wouldn't worry too much since he was going to leave you a note." She pulled away. "I didn't think how bad it was going to affect you. Next time James- _tată_ comes out, I'll spend the whole day with you, so you won't get scared when you wake up."  
  
"It was my suggestion." Steve said, carrying a small box that had holes in it. "Your apartment doesn't like animals, and...Angelina really wanted to bond with the kitten so I told her that she could spend the night at my place. I'm really sorry, Buck, I didn't think things through either. Let's sit down. You're going to love her. All of my team do and they tried to come up with names."  
  
"It sounds like it was a horrifying event. What was your suggestion?" Bucky eyeballed him and heard shuffling from the box. The three of them went to the couch.  
  
"Fluffy and Crookshanks." Steve replied. "Clint was worse. Bandit and what, Tigra and...Rebel?" He looked at Angelina who nodded solemnly. He sat the box in between himself and Angelina and she pulled out the kitten and passed it to her father. "Adorable right?" Steve teased. "Angelina has nothing but Japanese names."  
  
"She's...so... _tiny_." Bucky gaped at the kitten and he was careful as he picked her up. She mewed at him and she sat all contently on his metal hand while he used his flesh to stroke her forehead, "Isn't she the sweetest little love-bug?"  
  
"She slept with me last night," Angelina grinned, watching as the kitten purred loud and without stopping as she was given attention. "She follows me everywhere, she likes to know what I'm doing. She's very action-oriented though. Uncle Steve has a laser light he uses to play with her. She likes that."  
  
"I'd love to see that!" Bucky laughed, smiling up at them, "She doesn't act all snooty and privileged does she? Just an attention seeker for pets."  
  
"She's been looking for a family." Angelina concurred. "She came right up to me and sat on my neck. She was so scared, _tată_. I was worried."  
  
"Buck you always had a penchant for names." Steve grinned, looking at his best friend. "Do you have any that might work on the cat?"  
  
"Well, anything royal wouldn't fit..." Bucky leaned down and nosed he nose with his, "You're a pretty little thing, but still not Princess or Duchess or Queenie." He smiled wider as she popped his nose with her paw, then continued to bat at his hair so he shook it out for her, "Precious?" he offered curiously.  
  
Angelina looked thoughtful. "Precious?" She asked carefully. The kitten's ears flicked backwards and she nodded, "I think she'll respond to it."  
  
"It's better than _Fluffy_ ," Buck smirked as Steve rolled his eyes at him, "So...what's this about a doctor?" he finally asked slowly.  
  
"Dylan told us that the apartment doesn't do pets." Steve said slowly, knowing very well how this conversation could turn out. "His advice to Angelina was to get Precious registered as a companion pet for her. That way she would be welcomed in any and all apartments as she'll be a type of service dog. Companion animals are for emotions and for PSTD triggers. A lot of dogs are used as companions, but there's been cats as well."  
  
"What would she have to do to do that?" Bucky's brows knitted tightly, "Is it...only once? Get in, answer their questions, and get out? I need...more information. I know good therapists are like looking for a needle in a haystack. Do you know anyone?"  
  
"We're going to ask Sam. James was quite adamant that we ask him." Steve shrugged. "I think it's just once, but they might want her to come in for check ups to make sure she still needs an animal as a companion, I really don't know. But I have to agree with Dylan. Angelina needs to develop skills that she lost during her time with Hydra. I think while therapy is an option, a companion animal could relieve half of the stress that's on her. Pets are known to help with stress levels and Angelina's high strung. I think that having a pet around would be helpful to you too Bucky. Precious might be registered to Angelina, but like Dylan said, she might not bond with Angel. There's a chance she could bond with you. But if you think this is too high risk, I can always keep her at my apartment. But I get a feeling that if I did that, Angelina would just sleep over at the Tower."  
  
"Ha, yeah..." Bucky nodded in understanding, running his hand down the full length of Precious' body and she moved to jump down, tail flicking once she was on the floor and she pranced her way down the hallway towards their bedroom, "Did you take her to the vet? How old do you think she is?"  
  
"Four months old. Poor cat was starved and was a little dehydrated. Luckily she didn't have any worms or other problems like that." Steve explained, leaning back into the couch. "She needed vaccines. She's too young to spay so, we'll have to wait a bit till we can do that."  
  
Turning to look at Angelina, he watched her for a moment. "Do you want her?" he asked gently.  
  
"I would like to try to keep her." Angelina nodded, "I want to take care of her. She seems like a good kitten. She was scared and I know what that's like. Being scared is awful. It hurts. I don't want her to be scared, or hurt. She's just a baby and an animal. They don't understand."  
  
"Then, if you are skeptical or afraid of the doctor Steve finds for you, I am sure he can be with you. As your guardian as well, he can confirm or deny any information you do or don't want to give." Bucky told her firmly.  
  
"That's true." Steve gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "If you want me there, I'll be there. If you don't want me there, I can always be outside waiting for you. Sam would probably encourage you to seek out a doctor you're comfortable with. So don't force yourself to like someone just because they can give you the go ahead for Precious."  
  
"Okay." Angelina nodded and smiled at Bucky. "Thank you so much _tată_! I promise to be a good kitty-mom." She hugged him tightly.  
  
"I'll be a good kitty grandpa," Bucky chuckled and stroked her hair, kissing the top of her head. There was a mew, and Precious had wandered her way back to them. Easily he scooped her up and she managed to get herself onto his shoulder, perching happily. "You're going to get attached to that spot, aren't you?" she just purred and hunkered down a little bit more.

* * *

"Dude! How long's it been since we talked? I felt like you were ignoring me!" Sam whined as he sat with Steve at their table, "How was Angelina's birthday part? I'm hurt I didn't get an invite."  
  
"Bucky wanted a family gathering," Steve said apologetically. "So it was small. We weren't sure how Angelina would take too many people or how many was too many." He sat down across from him. "She dyed her hair. It's a gorgeous brown color, and she's starting to learn from Zan how to apply make-up. She looks _just_  like Bucky's daughter now without the white hair. Her freckles pop more, she looks healthier. The scars you can't do anything with, but...she's gaining more confidence. But that's kind of what I want to talk to you about actually."  
  
"Steve you gotta show me her with her new hairdo!" Sam demanded, leaning forward curiously, "I'll have to find her a belated birthday card or something. Maybe take her to a good ol' steakhouse. She's probably stunning in makeup. I know there's tricks to use makeup to hide scars. The internet is awesome and I have a couple VA women who told me about it."  
  
Steve grinned as he started searching on his phone, "I have a bunch." He confessed. "She might like the steakhouse a lot so that's a good idea to do." He handed him the phone. "She looks so beautiful, you'd never guess it was her." He gushed as Sam looked at the phone.  
  
"Look at her!" Sam agreed, "I can tell with one glance she's Bucky's! From what I've seen of him at the booth, and in you other pictures, he looks pretty good, too. Those freckles are the cutest!" He laughed and handed the phone back, "Wow, that makeup wasn't very intense but it did just enough."  
  
"Zan's the queen at it," Steve told him, putting his phone away. "Apparently Natasha told Bucky that he needed to stop pushing her, as well as the rest of us and watch and see what she does. This was all her doing. Zan only suggested a girl's day for her birthday and she went for it. Bus and all."  
  
"That's fantastic progress. There can be over twenty people on a bus." Sam beamed at him, "So, you mentioned you wanted to talk about something?"  
  
"It's about the progress that she's making," Steve took a breath and explained about the cat, the apartment not taking pets, and Dylan's suggestion to Angel about getting Precious registered as a companion. "I was wondering if you knew much about it." He concluded.  
  
"There's a bunch of people who have cats and dogs and even hamsters as a companion pet. It's not just a PTSD thing anymore. Lots of people with depression and anxiety need a more simple-minded creature to keep them grounded in this over-complicated world." Sam told him gently, "What you're asking for is a lot simpler than you might think. I know lots of therapists, sure, but if you give me a couple days I can find you one that will get along just well with Angel."  
  
"Awesome." Steve sighed in relief. "I was worried that what I was asking about was a little over the top. Do you know much about the process? I know Angelina might be anxious and I'd like to give her as much information as I can so that she won't freak out so much. If you don't, that's fine, too."  
  
"There's a one-sheet paper at least she'll have to circle a bunch of numbers describing how she feels one through ten for things like 'I tend to feel alone' sort of questions. Sometimes an apartment will accept a notice faxed to them, sometimes the apartment has to fax the doctor office a form the doctor has to fill out to fax back. So, she'll have to probably sit through one therapy session so the doctor can do their job properly." Sam listed off, "It'll be fine. I'll find one that won't even mind if Angel can, ya know, do the mind thing." He didn't want to be outright with it in a public place at least.  
  
"That sounds good." Steve nodded. "I don't think she'll mind the paper work. She's a little more in tune with her emotions, but she certainly still is a bit loss about social concepts. I don't think she'll mind sitting for a session. I think she's somewhat prepared for this."  
  
"It's cool if you're there during it, too, by the way. There's guardians who tell people what to put down, but I know Angel will just ask you what something means or for examples, which is good, and you'll help her chose if she can't decide. That's entirely different." Sam smiled reassuringly, "Show me a picture of the kitty."  
  
Steve looked through his phone and found one of her curled into a ball and asleep. He passed his phone and grinned, "We all tried to come up with names but Bucky won the contest."  
  
"What's the name?" Sam barely managed before he started gushing at how fluffy she was and her markings.  
  
"Precious." Steve smiled. "We decided on the name Precious."


	16. One thing Leads to Another

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Buck always have such smooth conversations is2g

It was a week into September, the kitten had been approved and the apartment was filled with 'housewarming' gifts which included two lazer pointers, one for each of them to use, an electric mouse courtesy of Stark for Precious to chase, a feather tickler that sounded like a bird when you batted at it. There were two cardboard boxes, both filled with the grocery bags from the last time they went shopping. Then there was a good scratching post slash climbing gym which was by the window. Another gift was a pink and yellow ball with a bell in it Bucky had to dig out from the couch and beds constantly, several kinds of flavors for kitten food, and two febreze scents for when they changed the cat box.   
  
For the night, because Dylan and Zan had become common raiders of their apartment to see the kitten, the catbox and a couple food cans were gone over to their apartment instead. As Bucky sat down on the couch, the TV was on the History channel and there was some show about mythology going on that he wasn't even paying attention to. It was...quiet. He had this problem a lot more lately. Nick was the first time it ever got really bad, but Bucky could feel his heart trying to hammer itself out of his sternum again.  
  
It was too late to go to Nick, and he hadn't gone to get his own guitar so the one Nick had was with him, of course. The TV might as well be muted, so he grabbed the remote and hit the power button. Jumping to his feet, he paced around and looked at the time. Digging his phone out, he used the speed dial for Steve's phone. "Hey...you...got any plans tonight?" he asked after Steve's generic 'yeah, buck?' hello.

"Besides watching T.V and trying to sketch? No, I don't." Steve shook his head from side to side on the other end. "Why?" He didn't think that Bucky would want to take a stroll around NYC right now, and there was something off about the tone of his voice. He sounded on the verge of panicking, but was forcibly calm. "Do you need me over?"

"I...want you over for more than just a visit." Bucky told him honestly. If he was going to have Steve here to live with the two of them, then why not do a few test runs? "We have a guest bedroom we don't use. I can set the sheets on the bed in there while you make your way over, if you...want to stay the night, anyway. It'd be a fun surprise for Angel in the morning, too."

"It's been a while since we've done a sleepover. Let me pack an overnight bag and I'll be there as soon as possible. Did the twins steal the cat and forced Angel to come visit them?" Steve asked as he shifted the phone over to his shoulder and walked into his room. He grabbed a duffel bag he rarely used and started grabbing pajamas, clothes for the morrow, and his toiletries he needed for the night.

"Ha...how'd ya guess?" Bucky asked with a weak chuckle, "I just...can't invade them when I'm like this. I'd be a party pooper. No one wants an embarrassing dad." He rubbed the back of his neck and he did his own shuffling, going to the linen closet and grabbing sheets and a comforter, "You bringing your own pillow?" he chuckled.

"Yeah. Not that I don't trust you. I'm sure you have the guest bed with a pillow, but..." Steve shrugged. "I found a pillow that I really, really like and well." He trailed off "And you wouldn't have called me if Angelina was there, unless Angel was the one that suggested the phone call, but I don't hear her in the background." He paused in stuffing the pillow into his bag. "Angelina wouldn't think you're embarrassing. I don't think things that you and I consider embarrassing would phase her much. But I do understand the sentiment."

"Thanks. Yeah, she took the kitten to the twins' apartment. I was watching the TV, but it was as if it wasn't even on. Perhaps you and I could watch something when you get here? Just regular cable is fine, I've been kind of bored of Netflix." Buck chuckled, "I like Travel, History, Discovery, and the Food Network of course."  
  
"The History channel always has such new things, but I like the Travel channel too." Steve laughed, "It makes me want to go somewhere and do something, but...I don't know. I guess I'm more comfortable in New York. We could always send out Angelina to scout out for us." He teased lightly over the phone.   
  
"That could be a thought for the future, when I'm not worried for my life. You know it is by a stroke of luck your phone hasn't been bugged." Buck chuckled back, "I'll hang up now, actually, so you can get here faster. Then...we can talk all night if you want."  
  
"I'll be there soon." Steve promised and hung up, slinging the bag over his shoulder and headed out of his room and into the elevator.

* * *

Bucky smiled warmly, even as his cheeks felt hot, when he opened the door to let Steve in. "You got here pretty fast. Did you ride your bike?"  
  
"I did," Steve said as he stepped through, taking off his shoes since he knew Angelina would get on to him if he didn't. "There wasn't much traffic heading your direction, but I didn't check the time. Apartment too quiet without Angel?" He guessed after a moment as he watched his friend curiously.   
  
"Yeah...and it's only been a week, but I'm real used to the kitten making a ruckus. We've had to put away the noisy toys like the bell ball and the chirping thing." Buck nodded and once Steve plopped his bag on the floor he reached out and gave him a hug.  
  
Steve hugged him back tightly, chuckling a little. "I swear Tony got those that make noise just to spite us all. Natasha was thinking about getting Precious a harness and a leash so that Angelina could take it on walks. I'm not exactly sure if it'd work...but...I think she just wants to see if Angelina will have to drag Precious or if the cat will actually walk. She makes her own fun." He pulled away. "I understand the need for noise. I used to leave the radio on. It helped me when I flashed back."  
  
"Did it?" Bucky pulled back, blinking at him curiously. They went further into the apartment and he tilted his head at the TV, "I guess...leaving the TV on wouldn't be a comfort to me. The words running together after a while I can see would be an...easy trip for me. It would...remind me of seeing but not seeing, hearing but not hearing. Like being in a foggy glass box."  
  
Steve nodded, "I understand. Esepcially when you don't know what will trip the Sol-I mean James out." He sighed softly. "Is it becoming more frequent?" He looked at his friend worriedly. "Or was this just...you need the noise and company?"  
  
"I don't know what it is I need, but it is becoming more frequent. The more people I'm getting to know and become friends with, or finding again like Natalia and...you." Bucky ducked his head, "Um, here's the guest bedroom. You can shuck your bag in there. If you...wanna get comfortable I'll give you a minute. Have you eaten dinner yet?"  
  
"No." Steve answered as he looked into the guest room. It was minimal, but it had a splash of light blue on the sheets. The comforter was a dark green. There was a dresser that was made with a dark wood and the carpet was a pale blue color the same as the living room. The curtains were white and it was the most calming room Steve had ever walked into. He placed his bag on the bed and walked over to the closet and peered inside. It was small, but certainly roomy. "Nice pick for the colors, it's not too shabby."  
  
"I use these on my own bed, I just threw some things together. I hope the green isn't too army and it's dark enough?" Bucky asked hopefully, "Forest green is a nice color for me, anyway. Dark blues and dark greens. I'm not there yet for brighter colors. The clothes in here are mine, of course. I kinda just shifted everything since Angelina has more and more of her own."

"It's fine, Buck. I don't mind the green." Steve assured with a faint smile.

Bucky relaxed a bit, "Good. Alright. Well, I'll make food. Chicken? Potatoes with ham? Potatoes with cheese is heaven in a bowl, by the way, especially with cut up baked nuggets. I'll bake a good breakfast with pancakes and eggs and bacon in the morning, but right now even if I don't mind cooking ever, I'm kinda lazy."  
  
"Chicken sounds good, with that potatoes and cheese." Steve agreed as he walked out of the room with Bucky. "You really go all out for guests." He teased his friend. "You're gonna make me want to stay here rather than to listen to Tony."  
  
"Maybe that's the intention..." Bucky muttered under his breath, but he though he was far enough away or that Steve was already at the couch.  
  
"Is it?" Steve asked as he turned back around and raised an eyebrow at him. "Do you want me to live with you and Angel, Buck?"  
  
"Oh...shit, you heard that?!" Bucky's eyes widened like saucers, "I..." He looked down and away, shifting, "I was...I was gunna wait before I said anything. I wanted to see how tonight worked. Nat suggested it but Nick and Angel think it would be a good idea."  
  
Steve walked over to the couch and leaned against it with his hip. He folded his arms across his chest and he looked at the guest room's door with at thoughtful look on his face. "You only have a six month lease. Are you thinking about keeping it like that or are you going to extend?"  
  
"We have been talking about extending it...do a year this time as December is just around the corner. Angelina doesn't want to live at the Tower, so neither will I." Bucky explained gently, setting the oven for pre-heating before he came back to focus on Steve. "I don't know if it's too soon? Or if this really doesn't surprise you, given how well you know me."  
  
"Angelina hated my apartment, I think that's why she doesn't want to be in the Tower." Steve said slowly, "But at the same time, I think she's worried about what you and her might be forced to do. She's probably not willing, nor wanting, to be an Avenger. I can't blame her. After what Hydra did to her, she probably sees us as another organization, and being in the Tower means to give up a lot of her and your freedom. She's probably concerned about how that'll interfere with her seeing Zan, and Dylan too."

"I wouldn't blame her, either. It's a worry. A real threat." Bucky nodded with a frown. The oven beeped saying it was ready, and he moved back into the kitchen, getting a flat pan to put the chicken nuggets on. He threw about twenty from the bag he pulled from the freezer on it and stuck the pan in the oven, setting the timer for ten minutes and returning to the living room with Steve, "If Fury stayed ignorant to who Angelina is, it would be possible to just have me stay in the Tower when that particular pile of shit hits the fan. If he did find her, she would agree to just be a temporary resident because Stark gave us sanctuary. That's understandable. As soon as we were cleared, she'd come right back here. I'm glad her therapy with Mrs Brandon went well to that regard, too." Bucky sighed, "Ignoring all of that...down to the simplest answer...we lived together before. This time, I have a daughter, but there really wouldn't be much of a difference. I'd cook the food, you draw, she does her gaming and anime. We all do our own thing and we'd be happy. That's what I've been picturing."

"How much is rent?" Steve asked as he sat down at the kitchen bar. He crossed his arms and leaned against the counter, watching Bucky cook. "I know you have heat and A/C. It's a one bathroom apartment though isn't it? Or is the second one in the master bedroom?"

"Well..." Bucky explained the rent, utilities included, it was one bathroom two bedroom, and then had to go back to flip the nuggets and throw them in for another ten minutes. Coming back yet again, he shifted, "It wouldn't be immediate. You can take your time thinking about it even though I know you're going to agree. Ask people at the Tower what they think and whatnot before you start packing." He chuckled.

"Nat would probably drag me into my room to start and Clint would be happy to get me out of there. I think they were tired of me moping. Tony wouldn't take too much offense as I think he'd use the time to decorate the room." Steve laughed a little. "But I'll talk to them. I'll talk to Angelina too. I know she'll say that she'll want me here, but I want to hear it from her and her thoughts. I know that it makes her happy to feel like her voice is valid."

"You do good for her, and you've always been the mother hen," Bucky teased, "I am sure I used to be, but I don't worry so much anymore. I think...having you around will be refreshing for her. For me, too, but you do so much already that it'd be natural."

"Well, everything was reversed back then," Steve said fondly. "I'm just cashing in all the times you mother-henned me." He watched Bucky for a moment and suddenly chuckled. "I remember I asked you once about what kind of family you pictured and you thought about and you turned to me and you said, "I bet for children I'll have girls." I asked you why and you immediately said, "Because Becca and Allison would kill me otherwise." Though that reasoning always changed. Never the girls though. You _swore_  you'd just have girls. Maybe a son, but you really wanted a girl. I don't know why that came to me just now."

"Well, I guess it's just because of the way I am? I wasn't _wrong_." Bucky motioned to the wall which was the general direction of the twins' apartment, "Even though the circumstances weren't the best, I think they're happy I have her. Nick certainly thinks she's the best."

Steve turned fond, "I am too. She made a bad place bearable, as much as I hate to say that. You've always been a strong person, a family type of guy too. Angel was the best thing that's happened to you. Regardless of circumstances. Hydra at least didn't take that away from you." His grin softened, "Have you ever thought about tracking your nephews and great-nieces and nephews?"

"A-Actually..." Bucky's face flushed just a bit, "Nick helped me put faces to memories with the pictures he has. Rebecca and her husband William Proctor, Ali and him, the lot of us before I shipped out, my parents...and then he showed me his son Grant and Rebecca's kids, James and the twins Chelsey and Kelsey because apparently Becca was an ass." The oven beeped again and Bucky disappeared into the kitchen, turning the oven off and one of the burners on. Pulling the nuggets out and setting them on a side counter, he hummed a bit to himself while he filled and threw a pot of water on the stove.

Steve cracked up, "Yeah the twins and the names. Becca would choose the rhyming scheme for the twins." He shook his head fondly. "I'm glad that you were able to figure that out. I haven't gotten a chance to meet the twins, they're always off on another continent. Got William's and Becca's need for adventure hard core. I think one of them is a freelance writer and the other is a photographer and they have a traveling business. I know Grant is doing something with a band and I think James is...god what is he doing nowadays? I don't even know..." He trailed off. "Man. It makes me wonder what Angelina's going to do when she gets to be in her twenties or thirties. What do you think she'll do? In a dream world." He amended. "Or real...whichever is more plausible to you."

"Photography, maybe? Travel places just to take pictures? She has been getting into her scrapbooking with Zan pretty hard now that she's gotten the hang of it." Buck offered willing the water to boil faster as he grabbed the box of mashed potatoes. He should've started the water before the nuggets were done but he had been wrapped up in the conversation. "Nicky told me that Rebecca would associate her three kids with me and them, when we were young."

"Yeah." Steve's smile gently faded, "I still can't believe that Allison passed away so quickly. With how long Nick's been around, I would've thought that Allison made it to be at least eighty...ninety even. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have trailed off that way. It's just shocking to me still."

"Yeah...he told me she died of pneumonia. Not...not everyone's so lucky. It wasn't uncommon back then. You got awful close a bunch of times..." Bucky sighed deeply, "She would've made an interesting grandma. She could be kind of terrifying, from what I do remember, all proper and prim, but she was kind too. Real kind. I'm sad she didn't get to see her son grow up. Maybe she did, from the other side, but still."

"Nick had her buried next to your grave," Steve said softly. "As close as you and Becca were, Beck's wanted to be with William after he died, but their plot is close by to your family's. I'm a bit farther away, I guess people thought I wanted to be with my mom and dad so..." He shrugged. "Peggy worked hard to get our graves there. They wanted us at Arlington. I think the Commandos got that same honor...or at least were offered it if they didn't take it. But Peggy and your family made sure that we were in Brooklyn."

"That must be...so weird, to see your own grave." Bucky shook his head from his area, measuring out the potatoes. He could eyeball the water for how many cups he needed, but the flakes were tricky. "I'm glad I'm here." He said after a moment, "I'm glad to have Angel, and you, and the twins, and Nick. You've all been substantial in my life and I don't know where I'd be had I not come back. Probably in some mediocre apartment overseas laying low and afraid. At least I can go to the damn grocery store now. It's been months since the incident and people's memories are akin to mine."

"I would've found you sooner or later." Steve assured, "and if you were too afraid to come home, then I would stay near you unless you thought it was better if I came to visit you less often." He laughed a little. "It is...weird to see your own grave. It makes you think and wonder. But you know...between you and me, I think that it's also a comfort to see it. Actually stand on it. I did die. A long time ago, and it's a fact they can't erase. I lived and died in the ninety-fourties and I unfroze in the two-thousands. This time, hopefully, I die an old man or something...something more concrete than ice."

"As much as I hate to say it, we're fighters and we'll no doubt die with our weapons in our hands. Or if we have our hands tied behind our backs, we'll be defiant until the end." Bucky hummed and stirred the potatoes after they were poured into the water and he moved burners, turning off the other one, "Come cut up the nuggets on a plate? Both ways, so when I mix it there's a bite of chicken in each spoonful." It felt...oddly natural to request Steve's assistance. Angelina was one thing, but Steve was always a different element and he was always shocked at the ease of it.

"You just want to tease me about how you can cut things better." Steve teased as he stood up and walked over to the counter where Bucky pointed at the chicken nuggets. He found a sharp knife and started cutting them. "Is that something you want to do? Be apart of the Avengers?"

"I've toyed with the idea, but...I'd need to be cleared first, and I don't want to deal with that quite yet. I want to be able to firmly stand my ground, not be a bumbling fool who can't answer questions properly." Buck sighed, "That's...another thing I wanted to warn you over. While not as frequent and not as debilitating or worth noting, I still get bad days. Probably always will. It's not like when James comes out. It's...I wake up and it's like I'm having an out-of-body experience. Days where I just...sit on the couch and write in my journal. Days where Angelina's gotta help me through the day. She doesn't think much of it, I think, just goes with the flow and it's no big deal for her."

"Does Angel have anything she needs for her bad days as well?" Steve asked, glancing over at Bucky. "Is there anything you need me to do when you have your bad days? Do you not like being touched? Do we just let you write in your journal till you can't, or do you need us to kind of nudge you and let you know when food's ready and stuff?"

"Angelina can touch me freely, so I don't see why you shouldn't be able to? I just...will probably look at you strangely. I won't talk. You can guide me and I'll eat and do basic routine things like shower, brush my teeth and all of that. I can't cook or even make tea on those days, though. I can pour myself milk or juice and that's the extent of my kitchen abilities." Bucky grabbed bowls and dished out equal portions of the potatoes, rinsed it and put it in dish washer, then grabbed the seasonings, "Garlic? Seasoning salt? Regular salt?" He asked, flicking some on his own and pulled the cheese from the fridge.

"Um, regular salt." Steve decided after a moment. "I'd choose garlic, but today's not that day. I'm feeling salty. Does Angelina have bad days that I need to worry about too?"

"She does. They're different. Much different and a lot more...heartbreaking. They terrify her, either way. Flashbacks are least likely, but happen once in a great while...it's maybe happened twice since we've escaped. She sees...something, anything, out of the corner of her eye or someone says anything and her _reaction_  is so much worse than if either of us had one. Flashbacks cause her to want to escape anyway she can. I gotta lock the doors, I tend to keep her in the bedroom with all her her personal things as comfort object. Just somehow make sure she doesn't get to the kitchen. I hate days like that. I have to control her as if I was one of them and James is the one who calms her down the easiest. Dylan tried to help the last time, and he had to leave because she thought he'd been captured."  
  
Bucky finished throwing the nuggets and all the ingredients together and mixed it all together, finally handing him his finished bowl and they moved to the couch, "The other one...the most frequent, are the nightmares and voices. The apartment becomes one of the bases. The kitchen's a science room, the bathroom a cellar covered in blood rater than water. Things like that. The voices...from what I _understand_  they don't try to tell her to kill herself...outright anyway? They get her to hurt herself by hallucinations. One time I remember when we were in a hotel she was punching her own arm in her sleep. Other times during these episodes she hides in the closet with her hands over her ears."

Steve felt the color go out of his skin. He took the bowl mutely and followed him to the couch. He sat down heavily as Bucky finished what he was saying. He leaned back, his mind going around. He remembered how casually Angelina mentioned that she had been experimented on. He didn't know what they did to her, he didn't know what types of experiments they had used on her either. He took a bite of his food. The taste a little muddled from his thoughts. "What do you do when she hears the voices?" He asked hoarsely. It didn't seem like there was much that could be done when Angelina flash-backed besides to hope that James was out. "Besides let her hide? Unless that's all you can do?"   
  
He wondered if it'd trigger her to see him when she had that type of bad day. Would she wonder if he got captured, or would she beg him to get her out of the apartment, and what should he do...if something like that were to happen?

Bucky pushed his food around, "Talk...ask what she sees, what she hears. Ask questions or talk about things that wouldn't fit with her mental narrative. For us, it ends up being a reverse of when I have a bad time with my flashbacks or my thoughts go south. I ramble for her, when she usually rambles for me. Anything works, really. She doesn't want to leave on those days, opposite of the Flashback days. There's usually just too much noise going on so doing what we can to distract her is best. Flashbacks she doesn't want to be touched or coddled, but episodes her favorite comfort item is the comforter. It's heavy, and grounding. That's what she needs, just to be grounded to reality. Wintertime I'm going to get her a heavier fuzzy blanket."

Steve nodded. "So let her do her thing when you flashback and when she has her moments, do what we can. That makes sense." He would take his cue from Angelina when Bucky's time hit, and visa versa when Angelina's moment arrives. He took another bite of food. "Thank you. For telling me. I just...I don't want to do anything that'd hurt you guys when you get like that. I don't want to hurt you for you two to hurt me, so I just wanted to know. I'm sorry that I asked the hard things...I know that I probably should've waited till after dinner or something...my sense of timing was always horrible."

"I started it. I mentioned my bad moments and the conversation kept going." Bucky patted his shoulder in comfort, but he ended up lingering there. Steve was radiating heat through his shirt. It was...oddly soothing. He gave Steve a shy smile when he looked at him in confusion, "Sorry...you're just warm." He shrugged and took his first bite of food, "What do you think of my lazy cooking skills?"

Steve suddenly laughed, "It's okay. I get told I run hot. I think you're a fantastic cook. It's really good. The nuggets are an interesting touch." He took another bite of food. "So if I decide to live here I'll be paying half of the rent. I might have to go back and sleepover at the Tower here and there, but that should be if I get overly exhausted from missions or if Tony's feeling the need to team-bond. I don't really have bad moments, but...there are times where I just feel a deep sense of melancholy. Sam calls it depression. I might snap at you if I feel pressured or something, just call me out on it."

"Yeah...we both do, too. It's alright, I understand. Days where you just can't smile and have a resting bitch-face." Bucky grinned when that got another snort out of him, "Don't choke on your food." He laughed and shook his head, "This was...good. Having you here. I feel a lot better. Do you want to watch any cable?"

Steve just smiled and gestured to the T.V. "You're the host. Pick something for us to watch. I'll suffer through it."

* * *

He had tossed all of his clothes and books in a pile in the living room and was sorting them out. He was really glad that he had all the space now, since it was easier to spread out. He had three piles for clothes. One for the tower, one for the apartment and the third was clothes that he still was trying to sort into the said pile.   
  
He had to be careful sorting the books, since he knew Angelina might want to borrow some books and he didn't want to trigger her into having a bad day, or Bucky for that matter. He knew he didn't need to worry about the dishes, or anything like that since Bucky would already have stuff. He should bring his own towels though.   
  
"Captain?"  
  
"Yes Jarvis?" Steve asked absently.  
  
"Bruce Banner and Clint Barton are coming up." J.A.R.V.I.S announced.  
  
"Okay, let them in when they get here." Steve said as he picked up the keep pile and brought it into his room. He tossed it on the bed, he could re-fold them and put them away properly later. He grabbed his duffle bag from the closet and went back out into the living room and stuffed the clothes he was going to bring into it.   
  
He would need to get proper boxes later. Zan would probably know a good place, or maybe some of the nearby shops would have some.

"WE BROUGHT PACKING TUBS! THEY HAVE WHEELS!" Clint's voice drifted happily through the apartment. The tubs he and Banner were rolling in were blue.

"There's a couple sizes, as well. A little skittering spider told Clint that you'd be signing on as a roommate on Bucky's lease so Clint grabbed me to help bring these up. When is everything going to be official?" Bruce asked, highly amused.

"Awesome, I was just thinking about the boxes." Steve grinned as he pointed over to a space. "Put them there so I can determine what tub should have what." He turned to Bruce. "A week is a possibility. I don't know, I have to wait till Bucky gives me a text telling me the landlord's okay with me suddenly being on the extended lease."

"That's really fast, don't you think?" Bruce arched a brow at him and took the smaller tubs out of the big ones, "Bucky was all about keeping you at arms length, now he wants you living with him? How is that going to go?"  
  
"Don't you know? He had a sleepover yesterday!" Clint waved his arms, "Bucky needed him from what I understand and Nat and I both think it's a fantastic idea and about time."

"There were a lot of reasons why Bucky didn't want me near him. He thought he was protecting me and he didn't like the fact that he made me sad, or thought he made me sad. Nat's the one that told him the idea for me to stay at the apartment rather than the other way around. Angel won't live here unless she absolutely has to and even then, she might take her chances. She likes the people here, don't get me wrong. But she doesn't like what the Tower represents I guess. Bucky and I talked about that too." Steve replied as he helped Bruce unpack the tubs and took a big one over to the book pile.

"That makes sense. So now that you've quelled his fears, he doesn't have the same pretenses as he did before." Bruce nodded, "I thought things were zooming by, but you broke down his wall. That is good. Now he doesn't ave that boundary."  
  
"You're going to be so happy there." Clint grinned at Steve, "Instead of being like Bruce here and brooding all day." He yipped wen Bruce gave him a nasty glare and went to duck by Steve.

"He's going to Hulk-out on you if you decide to push his buttons." Steve teased Clint lightly and turned to Bruce. "Yeah. It'll be nice to have a small space. Having so much is still a little-" Steve made a gesture. "I'm not used to it." He shrugged. "I think it'll be alright. Bucky already gave me a heads up about what to do if they flash or something, so...I think I'm prepared. Though I know I won't be the first time I see it happen."

"I know. I'm just looking out for you." Bruce smiled, "Are there any worries you have, per se?"  
  
"Or anything we can help you put away?" Clint smiled, "We're supporting you no matter what. We just wanna know what's going through your headspace. We know Bucky's good, what about Angelina?"

"She's...." Steve was hesitant about this and he decided to sit down on the ground. Clint and Bruce exchanged a look with each other, but Steve ignored it. "It's going to be bad. When her bad days hit. I guess she's prone to violence when she can't determine what's a hallucination and what's not. Mostly to herself. She never hurt anyone but herself." He amended. "But the apartment turns into a Hydra base and...well...she's been hurt so badly. I don't-there's no file on what they might've done to her. No record that I know of. I don't know if she's been injected with anything that would be a threat to me and Bucky. I don't know what they did to make her stronger...or weaker. I don't want her seeing an apartment as a Hydra base, but I know that's impossible to ask."

"That would be something we could only do tests on and she has such a fear, the only opportunity we would have is if she was knocked out from a fight and didn't even know about it." Bruce sighed, "She wouldn't be an Avenger, I already figured that out from my few talks with her. She's more vigilante material."  
  
"What about Bucky? Does Bucky want to be an Avenger with you?" Clint asked curiously.

"He thinks that it might happen, but he wants to get his name cleared first." Steve worried his lip. "I was afraid you might say vigilante. That puts her at a higher risk against S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Higher risk against the police _and_  government in general." Bruce added with a deep frown, "Just...keep an eye on her I'd say, teach her your morals and things. She really doesn't understand why we do some of the things we do, why things like that are bad. In her mind it's a lot simpler. If they're bad then she's doing good by taking care of them. That's not how it works and she hasn't comprehended that."  
  
Clint frowned now as well, "It's really sad. I want to take her out to do some outdoor stuff. Fishing, camping, whatever. I feel like that'd be refreshing for her, being holed up here in the city all the time."

"You can do that," Steve turned to Clint. "She'd probably love that. She likes the gardens and she likes hanging around with ducks. You have her phone number right? I can give it to you so that you can ask her if she wants to do something like that. Take the kids with you too. She needs to be around more people than just adults." He turned back to Bruce and nodded solemnly. "I have my work cut for me, I know. I'm probably biting off more than I can chew, but...we'll see what I can do."

"All you can do is try. I just know it'd break Bucky's heart if she was caught behind another cell." Bruce nodded and he stood up, "I'm going back to the lab. I was only helping Clint, I was in the middle of something."  
  
"Thanks! See ya. I'm glad I was able to get you out of your hidey hole for a bit." Clint beamed at him and Bruce rolled his eyes before heading to the elevator and disappearing. "I figured if I'm the positive one it'd be a good balance to Bruce's pessimism. Yeah, I get the danger and worries, but Nat and I are both so excited. She wants to see Buck happy like you do. Old time friends and all."

"Nat's always looking out for me and Buck." Steve chuckled softly and he looked at Clint. "Seriously, you should ask Angel if she wants to try that camping trip. It's an idea to hold on to. Bruce always was the thinker. I think that's how he keeps Tony in line. I think that's his secret besides being angry all the time."

"Wouldn't surprise me in the slightest. Anyway, want help throwing things together? I'm bored and Nat's doing whatever Nat does." Clint smiled, "I'll think about it and ask her. Nat has her number, so that's fine. I'll work up to it."

"I got clothes in a duffle bag that could start going into these tubs." Steve directed.

 


	17. Closing the Doors

We've lost interest and inspiration for this story. We've grown and moved on. When Black Panther comes out next year expect a new and different work. I'm just as tired as you are for waiting and waiting for an update and then nothing. I wish it could keep going, but I keep looking at it and hating it. Bucky just isn't turning out the way I want him to and Lynx has been having issues with Steve.

Different works will go up as we go, like TMNT, but this is it for Cracks.


End file.
